


Life 2 - Harry Potter

by KurooCrow



Series: The Reincarnation Series [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Hufflepuff Draco Malfoy, Platonic Soulmates, Reincarnation, Self-Insert, Slytherin Harry Potter, Soulmate AU, basically two friends getting yeeted into different worlds, but a different kind of soulmate, its a wild ride and i love them, oh god did they kill the og harry and draco?, they are harry and draco, wild man
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-15
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2020-05-12 04:01:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 56,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19221157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KurooCrow/pseuds/KurooCrow
Summary: Rose wakes up in the form of an infant Harry Potter and it takes her way too long to put the pieces together.AKA Harry and Draco know each other from a past life and really fuck things up.





	1. Take 1

The first coherent thought Rose had when waking was along the lines of ‘oh, shit, my head’ along with questions of what medications they had her on to feel so  _ weird _ . It felt like she wasn’t in her own skin.

She tried to open her eyes, but found the motion difficult and that she couldn’t see more than a few inches away. Her first instinct was to reach for her glasses, yet she couldn’t even lift her head. This action brought her back from the haze surrounding her brain, and the next thing she noticed were her small and pudgy hands.

Rose would have cursed, but apparently her vocal chords weren’t  up to the task and just shrieked instead. At the sound, however, she heard a sigh of relief from the figure leaning over her.

“No need to worry, Mrs. Potter. You have a healthy baby boy!”

The  _ what the fuck _ sensation only seemed to grow. None of the words spoken made any sense in the context of her thoughts.

It took her an embarrassingly long time to realize that she was a  _ baby _ and was born to the Potter family.

‘Huh. Guess Ariel was right on the whole reincarnation thing.’ Rose still wasn’t sure she wanted to go around yelling memes.

\--

It wasn’t until Rose was about one year old that she put together just how  _ fucked _ she was. She had been content to live life as a normal infant again, and made no effort to rush the development of her small body. It wasn’t a hard decision to avoid the competitive nature of ‘gifted’ classes at all costs this time around.

So, newly named Harry was perfectly happy with the love he received from his parents and their many friends. The two most common visitors were her favorite.

Harry would argue it was the shock of being thrown into a new body that stopped him from piecing the  _ very obvious _ clues together.

It really shouldn’t have taken until she was jolted awake by his mother sprinting up the stairs and into his bedroom. He heard shouts from downstairs and a low thud that echoed through the house.

“Mommy loves you very much, Harry.” She was crying, and Harry wanted nothing more than to punch whoever was threatening their family.

“Love mommy.” He slurred in the way only a baby can.

Still, Lily smiled and kissed the top of his head, enjoying the last few moments before the door burst open behind her.

_ “Kill me instead! Leave him alone!” _

It was at this point that Harry understood, staring down the form of Voldemort as his mother fell to the ground.

Harry mustered all of the control he had as the man approached, looking straight up and into his eyes. “Bitch.”

Everything went dark with a flash of green.

\--

Life at the mercy of Petunia and Vernon Dursley was just as awful as he had expected. He was thankful for the small mercy of being able to mourn when he first arrived as he was too small to work.

During the development from infant to child Harry was doing his best to understand magic. He was able to notice it when focused, and spent three years working towards calling it forward at will to use.

It was incredibly exhausting at first, and he couldn’t wait to get a wand to focus his magic. Still, he had managed to call his magic by age four, and by five was able to perform small feats like unlocking the door of the cupboard.

He was ecstatic when Petunia assigned him to begin outdoor tasks. While he wasn’t fond of the blistering heat and scorching sun, he did enjoy the freedom to practice more magic.

This included greeting the small garter snake that frequented the area.

_ “Hello.” _ He whispered, trying to focus on the sensation of speaking to the snake. Harry remembered that he-no, the Original Harry Potter hadn’t been able to tell when he was speaking parseltongue. It was a skill he  _ definitely  _ wanted to utilize even if only to terrorize the people in his life.

_ “You speak!”  _ It was probably the closest thing to a gasp a snake could manage.

The little serpent proved to be a good friend to young Harry, and would often meet him in the garden when he came outside to complete his chores. She was a curious creature, often insisting on wrapping around Harry’s arm or neck and joining him inside to explore. He always consented to her requests with the promise she would stay hidden and safe.

She didn’t have a name when Harry found her, and agreed to him giving her one. Despite his best efforts she rejected the name William Snakespeare and he eventually resigned to calling her Sage to fit her patterning.

It was a nice arrangement, allowing Harry someone to talk to during the nights he was locked in the cupboard. He had to stop Sage on multiple occasions from rushing away from him to attack his family. The last thing he wanted was one of them hurting the poor thing.

Between the chores and hours talking to a snake Harry was sent to attend school. It was quite possible the most boring thing he had ever experienced since he knew all of the material quite well, and struggled to not give away just how advanced he was. Pretending to learn the alphabet and how to spell was going to give him nightmares for years.

Even more difficulty was added in the fact that Petunia  _ refused  _ to see him perform better than Dudley despite being younger. Though, even if Harry didn’t have the knowledge of a full education he was sure he could have still received higher marks than Dudley.

Harry spent the years of his childhood wondering about his past life, but was always careful to keep that aspect of him separate from the present. He had taken a while to mourn the loss of his old life and family, yet always came back to the thoughts of Ariel. It was too much to be a coincidence that the two had shared a conversation about reincarnation before death.

It may have been nothing more than a fantasy, but Harry hoped he would one day find his lifelong friend again.

\--

Two days before his eleventh birthday Harry snuck outside before the others awoke, eyes carefully watching for any owls. He sat on the front porch waiting for about twenty minutes before a gorgeous brown owl swooped down to land beside him.

“Hello, lovely.” He greeted the bird as he took the envelope from it. It was a very surreal experience for him. Rose had loved Harry Potter (as did the other children born in Nice, France) and had always dreamed of attending Hogwarts or any magical school. But now he was  _ Harry Potter  _ and was constantly torn between excited and terrified of the future he knew.

Harry grabbed the crayon he had stolen from Dudley and scrawled a reply on the back of the letter before reattaching it to the owl’s leg. “Take care.” He muttered as the bird took flight again.

He remained seated on the porch for another few minutes, enjoying the sense of freedom from being outside.

Eventually he wandered back inside to steal the portions of food he knew wouldn’t be missed to eat before he was let out of the cupboard to make breakfast.

Two days later a knock at the front door and the vague sensation of magic let Harry know he would finally leave.

Harry jumped up from his place scrubbing the floor boards. “I’ll get it!” He called, sprinting to the door and pulling it open quickly. It was definitely   _ not  _ the half-giant he had been expecting.

“Ah, hello. Mr. Potter I presume? My name is Minerva McGonagall, deputy headmistress at Hogwarts.” Harry only took a moment to wonder why McGonagall was the one picking him up before nodding and stepping outside to shut the door behind him.

“Yes! Hi, you’re here to take me to diagon alley? Let’s be going.” He rushed through his words, eager to escape before Vernon came to see who was at the door.

“Just wait, we should inform your guardians.” McGonagall, clearly confused about his behavior and assumption of her, argued.

“They know I’m leaving and don’t want to meet anymore freaks like me.” Harry answered. The words were carefully chosen. Harry knew McGonagall knew of Petunia and her hatred for anything magical. McGonagall would never do anything to risk Harry’s safety, and he prayed that included not angering his guardians.

Apparently he was correct as McGonagall huffed and turned to Harry. “Very well.”

\--

Diagon alley was as magical as he had anticipated, and Harry was almost overwhelmed by the amount of magic weighing down on him.

“It’s… heavy here.” He complained, wiggling his shoulders as if to relieve the pressure.

“What do you mean?”

Harry pretended not to hear the hint of panic in her tone. “The air. There’s a lot of magic here.”

“You can sense it?”

“Yes, that’s how I knew you were there to get me.” Harry explained, only half invested in the conversation as he examined the shops. He  _ had  _ to investigate Knockturn Alley as soon as possible. That sounded  _ fun. _

“That’s a very rare skill, Mr. Potter.”

Harry frowned at the revelation.  _ Duh. _ The characters in Harry Potter had never mentioned a subconscious magic detection. He could only assume it was from training himself in wandless magic from such a young age. Now he had only drawn more attention to himself. He sighed.

The first building they visited was of course Gringotts, and Harry nodded politely to the goblins that assisted them. He could only imagine how tired they were of startled eleven year-olds. Luckily the goblins seemed to appreciate this and he and McGonagall were soon to his vault.

Once there McGonagall clearly expected some kind of reaction so Harry gasped. “This is mine?” He asked in a quiet voice. “I don’t understand.”

“Your parents left this to you, Mr. Potter.” He could hear the comfort in her voice and immediately knew how much he had loved McGonagall in his last life was valid.

“But… Aunt Petunia always says they were drunks who died in a crash and had no money.” An ironic story considering that was how Harry  _actually_ died.

Harry was certain that if McGonagall were a cat every hair would stand on end with the way she hissed “they what?”

“Is that not how they died?” Harry was ashamed to admit just how much entertainment he got from messing with the people in this world.

“We will have a talk later. There is much you apparently must know before school.”

Harry was quick to fill the small bag he brought with galleons and shove a few extra in his pockets when McGonagall wasn’t looking.

McGonagall then said she had an extra errand to run in the bank and for Harry to wait in the main hall. Of course that wasn’t going to happen and he slipped from the bank as soon as she had vanished with a goblin.

Knockturn Alley was disturbingly easy to find, and Harry felt bad for any ignorant students stumbling across it.

He made one quick stop in a bookshop but realized he should wait to order any of interest and instead just made a mental list of ones to return to when alone. After leaving he wandered to another store labeled “Shyverwretch’s Venoms and Poisons”. Sounded promising.

When he entered he was drawn immediately to the back corner where a rather large group of display cases were set up. They all housed different animals with labels on the species and uses of their venom or toxin.

Harry glanced at them all before locking his eyes on one case holding a fairly familiar snake. Oh, he shouldn’t. But he would.

“Oi, kid! What the hell do you think you-”

Harry cut off the rather angry shopkeeper. “I’d like to buy this snake.”

The man snorted. “She’s a rather pricey specimen, kid. Took me a year to acquire.” Harry highly doubted this as they were fairly common in the muggle world.

Without speaking Harry moved next to the man and dumped about ten galleons on the counter.

“Well, shit. Good luck, kid. She’s all yours.”

While angry at the man’s disregard for a child’s safety, Harry nodded and moved back to the snake. He moved his magic to unlock the case and eyed the snake that immediately rose in defense.

_ “Hello, beautiful.”  _ He hissed, hearing the yell from the shopkeeper behind him. The snake tilted her head, obviously confused.  _ “Would you like to come with me? I promise to keep you safe and look after you.” _

The serpent didn’t speak but moved her head in a manner similar to a nod before slithering forward and up Harry’s offered arm to drape over his shoulders. He was grateful she was either young and not full grown or malnourished only for the fact that she wasn’t a full twelve feet.

_ “It’s rather nice to meet you. I thank you for freeing me.”  _ Harry grinned at the snake and man once more before strolling from the shop. He figured it was about time to return, and met a rather frantic McGonagall near the bank.

“Mr. Potter! I specifically said to-” All color drained from her face as she caught sight of the black mamba casually lounging around his shoulders. “What the  _ hell  _ is that?”

“It’s a snake!” He exclaimed with all the ignorant bliss of a child. “I just bought her from a lovely man down that alley. Isn’t she gorgeous?” Harry pointed to the alley before using his opposite hand to gently stroke the snake’s chin.  _ “You truly are magnificent.” _ He hissed to the snake who seemed to love the ego boost.

“Knockturn Alley is not a place for you to visit! For the rest of this trip please do not disobey or stray from my side again!” Harry nodded at her harsh tone and laughed internally at her panic.

He couldn’t help it that he gained parseltongue from the attack! It was damned useful and snakes were cool!

They left the area soon after McGonagall calmed down and headed directly to Ollivanders. Harry was certain this was where Hagrid had left to buy an owl, but McGonagall stayed at Harry’s side as Ollivander approached.

“Ah, Mr. Potter! I was wondering when I’d see you here!” This was the greeting Harry was sure he gave every student, but also wondered why Ollivander would question it when he seemed to know them already. Surely he at least knew what year they started Hogwarts.

“Hello, sir.”

Ollivander muttered a few words before moving to collect some wands to try. Harry took the moment to address his new friend.  _ “I was thinking of potential names. How do you feel about Basil? Short for Basilisk?”  _ She couldn’t have known what basil truly was, but that didn’t matter.

_ “A name to be feared. Well chosen.”  _ Harry was about to reply when he felt a flare of magic towards the back of the store.

Apparently this one was strong enough to be felt by McGonagall and Ollivander as well as they both froze and turned to face it.

“What is that?” Harry wondered. It felt as if the magic was calling him.

“It can’t be.” Ollivander drew his brows together and vanished from sight for a few moments before reappearing with a tightly bound wand case. “My grandfather received this for safekeeping from a young lady in the 15th century. She believed it would be best kept here until a new owner arrived or it wilted completely.”

Harry bit his lip. He had no knowledge on what Ollivander held or its context. He was supposed to receive a holly wand!

Ollivander opened the case to show a sleek dark-colored wand that practically hummed with energy. “It was the wand made by Salazar Slytherin himself and was able to be put to sleep until woken with parseltongue.”

Ah, so the parseltongue spoken in the shop is what made the difference. Granted, Harry was sure his wand would be different anyways considering he had a different soul. “That’s so cool.”

Harry reached forward to grab the wand and shivered at the rush of magic that raced through him.

“It’s snakewood, basilisk horn core, 12 inches, shockingly quite flexible.” He rattled off the information.

“It’s wonderful.” Harry bounced on his toes while admiring the wand.

With a glance at McGonagall Harry decided that she was well past her limit of “Wild Shit Harry Did” today.

“Thank you, sir.” Harry said as he handed over the seven galleons for his wand.

McGonagall escorted him out and was able to calm a bit since Harry was rather normal during the next portion of their shopping trip. She should have known it wouldn’t last.

Harry was still smiling from all the new things he had discovered that day when they entered Madam Malkin’s Robes for all Occasions. The smile faded, however, when an almost eerie feeling overcame him. He felt slightly nauseous, but in the sense of when there’s an important paper due in two hours and you hadn’t started it. It was an itch at his chest and mind, and made him squirm slightly with discomfort.

The feeling lasted until he glanced around and met the eyes of the boy he knew to be Draco Malfoy. The feeling peaked and faded, and Harry narrowed his eyes for a moment before swallowing and speaking just loud enough for others to hear, “This bitch empty.”

Harry was feeling rather stupid until Draco’s eyes widened and nearly instantly filled with tears as he replied,  _ “Yeet!” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Slytherin's wand actually does work like that but in canon it was used by Isolt until it was deactivated and withered so she buried it and it became a tree. I decided that instead she brought it to Ollivander earlier since he would be able to take care of it. (also for the shock value of harry having the wand because Iconic)


	2. Take 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco is apparently much better at dealing with loss than harry because at least he *notices* it

The transition from alive to dead to alive again, from adult to infant, from together to suddenly  _ alone _ … was not gradual, or easy. It was pain and confusion and it only got worse from there. 

Draco Malfoy was born on June 5th, 1980 to Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy, kicking and screaming. Ariel, who died so quickly she didn’t have time to process it, raged at the world and everything in it for a long period of time. It all seemed like a huge cosmic joke, at her expense. And to someone who spent 23 years in one body, waking up in another, smaller,  _ male  _ body was icing on the cake. A new life, far from her old one, let alone in the body of a famous book character. 

She wept for her family, her friends, for  _ Rose _ . Her dearest friend. 

Eventually, she brutally cut away from those memories, and told herself to move on. She had a new life now, one she would survive, one she would fucking  _ thrive in.  _ She- he- shoved that past part of himself away and focused on being Draco. 

Narcissa, bless her heart, she  _ tried _ , in her own way, but she was a distant mother at best. Lucius… Lucius was cold and unforgiving of the slightest error, whether in a house elf or his own son. Draco supposed that a child would do anything to live up to that standard in order to gain that distant approval. But Draco was not a child. 

He refused to grovel for shreds of affection from an unforgiving man. That was not to say Lucius Malfoy was physically or verbally abusive- there is just only so much emotional neglect one can take. Lucius’ blood purist standards and the demands of being the heir of a noble line bore down on Draco. He refused to accept the racism- but could not afford to go against the grain too much. 

Eventually, Draco adopted a detached air- neither for or against any overtly political opinions put forth by his father. It was the best his parents would get from him. 

—

One night, after a particularly grueling dinner party filled with blood purist ministry officials, Draco, now nine, snuck to the family owlery and sent a desperate letter to his cousin, Nymphadora Tonks. 

He was lonely, and dying to talk to someone who  _ wouldn’t  _ torture a muggle for the heck of it. Or advocate against Muggleborn rights. Or refuse to sit next to a halfblood- the list goes on. Carefully worded, Draco asked for a more secure method of communication, to just  _ talk _ . 

What he didn’t expect was for his aunt Andromeda to barge in the front door the next morning and demand to meet her nephew. Draco, who honestly hadn’t expected this, watched the scene unfold from the staircase.

“What is the meaning of this?” Lucius demanded sharply.

“Oh? A woman cannot see her own nephew,  _ Lucius? _ ” 

“How are you even still keyed into the wards? I want you gone.” He snapped.

“ _ Lucius _ ” Narcissa hissed, just arriving from the dining room, “she is my  _ sister _ . Despite everything-“ here her voice gets softer, “despite everything, she is still family.” 

The two sisters eyed each other for a moment, seemingly communicating through looks alone, before Andromeda nodded and stepped further into the house. 

Draco watched his father’s eye twitch, face like stone, before he stomped off to another part of the house. He deemed it safe, and carefully came fully down the stairs. 

“He-“ he coughed to clear his throat, “hello”. 

Andromeda knelt down and looked into his eyes. 

“Hello dear. I’m sure you know, but I am your aunt. It’s lovely to finally meet you.” 

“Likewise” 

“Would you like to go have dinner with me? I know a lovely little sandwich shop.” As she spoke, she glanced at Narcissa as if seeking permission. He didn’t look to see, but after a long moment his mother must have nodded because his aunt reached over and grabbed his hand, and they were whisked away in an apparition. 

She wasn’t lying, the shop  _ was  _ lovely, and Draco was secretly delighted to see who could only have been Nymphadora Tonks sitting in the booth they approached. Draco took one look at her heavy black combat boots and bright purple hair and was  _ enthralled _ . 

“Draco dear, this is your cousin, Nymphadora. She’s in her sixth year at Hogwarts.” Andromeda gestured to the girl. 

“Call me Tonks, kid. Why’d you write?” 

Draco sighed and flopped down into the booth. 

“Do you have any idea how exhausting my parents can be? It’s all  _ ‘pure bloods are superior Draco’ _ and  _ ‘Mudbloods are beneath you’  _ and my favorite,  _ ‘my name is Jerkwad and the stick up my ass is two meters long’.  _ I needed someone  _ sane _ to talk to, and Mom said your mom married a muggleborn so you guys  _ must  _ be okay to talk to.” 

Draco ignored the incredulous looks on their faces and instead browsed the menu on the table. 

“Is the chicken salad sandwich good?” He asked, prompting a startled affirmative from the still gobsmacked Andromeda. His cousin’s face was quite literally turning purple in an effort not to laugh. 

The lunch ended up being fantastic, and the relief of finally being outside the stifling environment of the Malfoy Manor made the entire idea, even the potential recriminations from Lucius, absolutely worth it. 

On the way out of the diner, and before heading back to the manor, Draco stopped Tonks from leaving right away. 

“Can you buy me some Doc Martens? I can’t go to a muggle store, father would kill me, but he doesn’t have to know they’re muggle if they’re sent by owl post.” He asks.

Tonks looks  _ delighted _ . “Oh absolutely, kid. What size are you?” 

Andromeda, who overheard the exchange, added, “Nonsense. I can charm the boots to fit any size and adjust as he grows. The  _ correct _ question, daughter, is what  _ color _ .” 

After this fateful dinner, Andromeda was allowed over more and more, and Draco was even allowed to sometimes stay over at her house. He thinks his letter to Tonks and his aunt’s intervention sparked a… thawing of relations between his mom and her sister. Despite lingering issues, they tolerated each other’s differing views enough to talk. They acted like sisters again.

—

Lucius Malfoy, despite Voldemort’s downfall, held steadfast to the cause. He was particularly fond of the “Harry Potter- Next Dark Lord” theory and stressed repeatedly the importance of befriending Harry Potter at school. Draco intended to do  _ exactly _ that, but not because his father wanted him to. He just thought he’d make a good friend. 

One particularly stressful night, when Draco was stuck entertaining ‘former’ Death Eaters with his father, he got caught up into a conversation with his father and Igor Karkaroff. 

“How go things at Durmstrang?” Lucius asked. 

“Oh wonderful. I’m well on my way to being headmaster, just fantastic.” Karkaroff replied. 

Draco, standing at Lucius’ side, zoned out the conversation and instead stared at the dark mark glaringly present on Karkaroff’s arm. It was so goddamn  _ ugly _ . And Draco, with a deeper understanding and appreciation for magic now that he was a wizard, found it disgusting. It  _ felt  _ disgusting, and it was dormant, not even active. He zoned back in, and started listening again in time to hear the rest of the conversation. 

“... just worried that Rookwood, and Rosier, and the rest, that they- that they want  _ revenge.”  _ Karkaroff stuttered. 

“Ah yes. That dreadful business. I assure you they can’t reach you from Azkaban, Igor. After all, you put them there.” Lucius replied smoothly, and sipped his wine. 

Wait. This was the scumbag that sold out other Death Eaters? On one hand, sure, more scum locked up in Azkaban, but on the other hand,  _ he betrayed his allies.  _

“I had to, Lucius, certainly you of all people understand.” 

“Of course. That is why I even allow you in my home.” 

He had to?  _ He had to? _ Loyalty and trust were fucking cardinal rules  _ and he broke them.  _

“I don’t.” The words slipped unbidden from Draco’s mouth. 

Lucius, startled that his son actually spoke, looked down at him. Draco licked his suddenly dry lips and continued, gaining traction with each word. 

“I don’t understand. You… betrayed them? To, what, save your skin? You fucking coward.” 

Lucius’ face got redder and redder with rage. By contrast, Karkaroff went paler at each word. 

“You should’ve fucking-“ he was cut off as Lucius grabbed his shoulder with an iron grip. 

“I apologize for my son.” He stated tersely before he dragged Draco out of the suddenly silent room. 

Draco, realizing he went too far, that he broke his carefully maintained neutrality, stayed quiet and accepted the way Lucius dragged him to his room and tossed him in. He was too small, too young to do anything about it, so he stayed silent. 

He was grounded for a week. 

—

On his eleventh birthday, Draco mentally thanked his mother for insisting on his education being at Hogwarts. Receiving a Hogwarts letter was Ariel’s dream as a child, and here it was, coming true as Draco. 

The beautiful tawny owl deposited the letter directly in his lap before perching on a railing to wait. He motioned for it to stay, then ran inside to the office to draft a reply. He scrambled for a quill, and then penned a quick affirmative before sealing it with the Malfoy crest in wax. 

The owl waited patiently for him to attach it, then flew off. 

He watched it until it was just a speck in the sky. 

—

Diagon Alley was bustling with activity. He took one glance at his mom, who was distractedly glancing through her shopping list, and his father, who had his eye on Gringotts, and decided it was time to fuck off and have some fun. 

He was about to dart off, one blue Doc Marten off the ground, when Narcissa grabbed the back of his robe with an iron grip. 

Damn. She had eyes on the back of her head or something. 

Resigned, he followed them through each shop on the list, getting books, and cauldrons, and whatever else. Finally,  _ finally _ they stopped at Olivanders. His mother split from them there to go get something from a shop down the street.

Draco and his father entered the dark store, and Draco blinked rapidly at the shift in lighting. 

“Ah. Lucius Malfoy- elm, dragon heartstring. A fine wand. And you must be young Draco.” Ollivander spoke from out of nowhere. Draco didn’t flinch. 

He continued, “hmm. Well, let’s begin, shall we?” 

What followed was a flurry of boxes, wand after wand, all of which didn’t even twitch in his hand. Finally, after a good half hour, in which his mother had returned from her store, Ollivander finally approached with a slim box. Draco knew immediately that it was the right one. He could feel it in his gut, a sharp tug. 

When sparks flew at his flick, Ollivander looked deeply satisfied before exclaiming, “Aspen wood, dragon heartstring, 12 inches even. Unyielding.” 

The wand was a beautiful smooth white, with a single winding, darker line running through the grain from base to end. Draco held it reverently in his hands. 

He looked Ollivander straight in the eyes, and nodded his head, before handing over the seven galleons. “Thank you, sir.” 

Ollivander smiled, and disappeared back into the aether of his shop. 

Wild. 

Lucius adopted that Look-at-this-son- _ I _ -birthed expression, so Draco decided that it was time to leave immediately. He tolerated a stiff pat on the shoulder before he pulled away, and left the dim store. 

“Sweetie, I have one more shop to visit, and your father had business to attend to. Can we go while you get fitted for your robes?” Narcissa asks. 

“Knock yourselves out.” 

“ _ What?  _ What does that mean?”

“I said sure.” 

His parents shared an exasperated look before parting just outside Madam Malkins. Draco took a deep breath, and prayed things would play out just like canon. How cool would it be to meet  _ the  _ Harry Potter? Pretty fucking fantastic, he bet. 

He stepped inside and began his fitting, asking Madam Malkin to throw in a couple more colorful robes on top of his school ones. He grinned at the beautiful blue and silver fabric she held up and nodded, before gasping at the purple and gold. 

“Both please!” He grinned. 

It was then he felt an odd sensation begin to grow, deep in his chest. He briefly panicked that something was wrong with him, before he swiftly wiped all traces of discomfort off his face at the sound of the door opening. 

He looked over, and met the eyes of Harry Potter. 

“This bitch empty.” 

The sound of those words broke open a well of emotion deep inside him that he hadn’t realized was there. 

“ _ Yeet!”  _


	3. Take 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We made a discord server!! Join us for shitty memes and maybe actual discussion!!:  
> https://discord.gg/Mnxc6qX

Harry Potter was rather… detached for lack of a better word. He had never taken the necessary time to mourn his first death and those left behind. The entire life had been closed off and shut into a small corner of his mind the instant he awoke after the crash.

That wasn’t to say he didn’t miss it, but he had always been bad at dealing with grief. It probably didn’t help that during his childhood and development he had no support system. There were no loving parents to comfort him and his only friend was a garden snake.

Harry was painfully aware of just how unresponsive he was to most emotions, but, like normal, he couldn’t bring himself to care. Perhaps it was better to be unaware of how painful it could be to live a second life abandoned by those you knew.

It wasn’t really a shock that the boy became so generally apathetic after spending eleven years locked in a closet. Constant abuse from his guardians had never even drawn a true reaction from Harry besides a harsh glare or roll of the eyes.

He simply didn’t  _ care.  _ For a young boy previously 23 year-old there was nothing to care about during those years. There were no friends to protect. No mysteries to solve or monsters to chase. It was just… monotonous.

The beginning of his new life was just as sudden as the previous end, and Harry had no one there to help him through it.

He could only imagine the toll that had taken on someone like Ariel in the life of Draco Malfoy.

Because right now the only thought on Harry’s mind was  _ Ariel.  _ Ariel had been the one true friend Rose could count on no matter the issue, and was frankly lost without her for the past eleven years.

And now, not twenty feet away, she was  _ here _ . She was Draco Malfoy, but she was  _ here.  _ And she  _ remembered. _

Harry burst into motion barely a second after Draco. The two met halfway; a tangle of limbs as they scrambled into an awkward embrace. Harry knew he was already crying and soon heard the muffled sobs of Draco.

“I guess you were right.” He was shocked how even his voice was when he spoke.

“Shut the  _ fuck  _ up.” Draco whined, burying his face in Harry’s shirt. “I thought I lost you. I thought I was  _ alone.” _

It took a moment for it to click for Harry just why that would be horrible for Draco. Harry had never minded being alone. Being by himself meant he had plenty of time to think and plan for the future but-

Draco had clearly taken far longer to adjust. Harry wondered if his friend would notice the difference in his personality from the past years.

“It’s not that easy to get rid of me, loser.” The loving tone helped Draco calm slightly.

He let out a half-assed chuckle and moved back from Harry, frantically wiping his eyes. “Damn, when was the last time a  _ Malfoy _ cried in public?”

Draco’s lip twitched. “Oh? Like you’re one to talk,  _ Potter.” _

An angry hiss brought their attention to the furious snake that fallen from Harry’s shoulders as he ran. Basil was now next to Harry, raising the front of her body in the air and showing the black coloration of her mouth.

_ “Hush now, Basil.”  _ Harry called down to her.

What concerned Harry wasn’t the antagonized snake but the way Draco’s eyes lit up. “I forgot about parseltongue… you  _ have _ to teach me.” Harry opened his mouth to protest but was cut off by a stern, “No, you don’t have a choice, dude.” Harry made the wise decision to simply sigh and nod.

“I’ll try.”

“That’s what I thought.” Draco then crouched to better see the serpent. “Hello, gorgeous.”

“Her name’s Basil.” Draco raised an eyebrow and Harry continued in a sheepish voice, “short for Basilisk.”

“What, she didn’t like Reese Slitherspoon?”

Harry shook his head, “No, and I didn’t think David Hisselhoff would work either.” Basil shook her body as if horrified by the concept.

Despite all of his efforts to ignore the past, Harry was struck with one of the strongest emotions he had felt this life when Draco grinned up at him. It was  _ her  _ smile and damn he missed it.

“She’s a mamba right? That’s fuckin’ sweet.” Draco moved forward to stroke her back, completely uncaring of the venomous fangs still aimed towards him.

With a snort Harry motioned with his hand for her to stand down. He wasn’t fond of the idea of accidentally causing his friends death right after they met. Harry was sure she didn’t mind though, since Basil seemed to appreciate his new friend as she immediately preened under his hand.

Finally back to reality Harry turned to see McGonagall watching them with a very carefully blank expression.

“Oh, right. I’m almost done shopping with Professor McGonagall.” Draco looked up from the practically purring snake at this.

“McGonagall?” Draco frowned at that before making another realization. “Wait, you don’t live with the Dursleys do you?”

“Yeah. That was something I didn’t change in time.” He also hadn’t wanted to start trouble and end up in a worse scenario, but Draco didn’t need to hear all about his life at this point.

“Well, fuck that. Come back to the manor with me tonight. I’m sure Mom and Racist won’t mind. In fact- they’d probably go nuts.” 

Harry choked and stammered, “Holy shit, please tell me you’ve never said that to his face.”

Draco grinned, “No, but I’ve been really tempted. Tonks always finds my new names for him amusing.”

“ _ Tonks.”  _ Harry breathes because  _ holy shit _ there’s so many people he’s just now realizing he and Draco could have genuine familial relationships with. “I have to break my godfather out of prison.” he whispered.

Draco laughed at the whine that escaped Harry’s throat and stood from where he was crouched. “Okay, but seriously, come with me for the night. Asshole’s been spouting stuff about you being the next dark lord for  _ years.  _ You show up with that snake and I bet you thirty bucks he creams his pants.”

“That’s  _ not  _ imagery I needed, thanks.” Draco, as expected, only beamed in reply. Harry turned toward McGonagall who looked as if she picked up just enough of the conversation to debate breaking down in tears. “I’m gonna head back with Draco and see you at Hogwarts tomorrow, okay?”

Harry knew from his past life that McGonagall was someone to be feared. She was a warrior and probably Hogwarts best line of defense even  _ with  _ Dumbledore there. So, obviously, he felt quite satisfied when all she could manage was a small nod.

She would regret that as soon as the shock wore off, of course, but Harry also knew just how much bullshit he had unloaded on her throughout the course of the day. McGonagall deserved a break from him, honestly.

So, without much hesitation, Draco and Harry turned away from the professor and moved with a store employee to finish their fittings for school robes. By the time they finished McGonagall had left, and Harry made a mental note to buy her something as an apology. Though, he wasn’t sure money would be able to buy something able to make up for this hellish day.

Draco waited with Harry near the entrance to Madame Malkin’s for a few minutes until Narcissa finally approached them. “Draco, dear. Your father should be waiting for us at-” The distracted woman glanced up from her list and froze.

Harry’s hair was long enough that he held it back with a hair tie, and he knew that it perfectly displayed his scar.

“Oh, I see you’ve made a friend. I’m Narcissa Malfoy, Draco’s mother.” She greeted, ever the proper Malfoy matriarch.

“Harry Potter, ma’am. A pleasure to meet you.” Harry nodded his head in what he hoped was an appropriate greeting and heard Draco choke back a laugh.

Apparently he was decent enough since he saw the way her eyes widened in appreciation briefly before her expression became something that he couldn’t decipher completely.

“Is it alright if Harry stays with us tonight, mother? I would hate for him to have to go back to that  _ muggle  _ house.” If Harry didn’t know his friend as well as he does even he would believe that acting.

But it appeared to do the trick against Narcissa as she recoiled and nodded, “Of course, dear. Your father has already left for the manor but I’m sure he won’t mind a guest tonight.”

Draco turned to grin at Harry, and Harry felt a flash of fear for this version of Lucius Malfoy.

\--

“A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Malfoy. I’m Harry Potter.” Harry was quick to greet Lucius with the best posture he could manage. He noticed Lucius’ eyes glued to the mamba eyeing him curiously from Harry’s shoulders. Even the noteworthy Malfoy Mask slipped into something Harry could only describe as pure delight.

“Mr. Potter. Lucius Malfoy.” Harry shook the offered hand, sending a very pointed glance to his forearm then his eyes. He took pride in the way they widened slightly.

Draco chose the instant their hands dropped to grab Harry’s and pull him towards the back door, “Come on, Harry! You promised to teach me parseltongue!”

The strangled noise that left Lucius behind them nearly drove Harry into a fit of laughter.

\--

Harry did his best to teach Draco the snake language well into the night. While after a few tries Draco would be able to recognize certain words, he was unable to form them with the intent of speaking in response. They assumed that was the strange magic of parseltongue and eventually retired to Draco’s room where they lay beside each other on the massive bed.

“We have to kill Voldemort, don’t we?”

Draco groaned at that, “God, the horcruxes will be fucking annoying, though.”

“Yeah, I mean I’m not exactly  _ eager  _ to die again.” Harry’s blunt tone caused Draco to startle. “There’s no telling if I’ll come back like Harry did given the circumstances.”

“I don’t think I could lose you again.” Draco confessed. Reaching out he took Harry’s hand and held it between his own. “I don’t know why this happened. No one else remembers a past life I… I doubt the universe would fuck that up again.”

A strangled noise escaped Harry. “That’s… not something I’ve really thought about. I haven’t really thought about the past since I was sure I’d be alone here.”

Draco snorted, “Yeah, but knowing you it wouldn’t be long until Hogwarts was wrapped around your finger.”

“Me?” Harry reared back, “You literally repaired the relationship between Andromeda and Narcissa with a single letter.”

Draco laughed for a moment and fell silent. They relaxed in the brief peace before continuing, “So, what else are we going to fuck with?”

“What no speech about how we have to keep the timeline intact?” Harry teased.

“I’d rather not suffer for seven years and watch all those people die.” Draco adopted a facial expression that Harry could only assume had been taught to him by the elder Malfoys. “Plus, you’re the friend of the Malfoy heir. Like hell are you returning to that filthy muggle home.”

“God, please tell me Lucius didn’t infect you with his pureblood bullshit.”

With a gasp Draco took one hand back and placed it over his heart. “I’m offended you could ever think something like that.”

“ _ Anyways _ ,” Harry redirected, “We seriously need a plan to get Sirius out of prison.”

Draco lit up, giving Harry a look that was truly terrifying. “ _ Well,  _ good thing you’re friends with a Malfoy.”

\--

Hogwarts was… something that hadn’t fully registered for Harry. He had been too distracted by the realities of the Dursleys and being alone in this universe to linger in the joy of being a  _ wizard  _ and attending  _ Hogwarts.  _

Finding Draco had… lowered the blanket Harry had draped across his thoughts, but not completely removed it. Because now he would be responsible for Draco.

It wasn’t as if Draco couldn’t defend himself (he had been the one to take martial arts classes in the past life) but Harry knew him too well. Draco didn’t always think about ramifications and was easily influenced by his emotions. If Draco fucked up, Harry knew he would be there to protect him.

Right now, though, they were only first years and had a plan for the near future. They didn’t need to worry for the moment.

So, as they arrived at the platform 9 ¾, Harry allowed himself to relax. To enjoy the (hopefully) once in a lifetime opportunity of a first year arriving at Hogwarts.

He wondered just how the two would impact the timeline by being friends and very much  _ not  _ going along with the bullshit expected of them. Harry only hoped they could improve the lives of some of the other students he had appreciated in his last life.

Harry could feel the stares on him as he arrived with Draco Malfoy of all people. It didn’t help that he still had his scar proudly on display and a mamba draped around his shoulders.

Draco said farewell to his parents and Harry contributed a brief nod to each of them before the two strayed away from the adults. “Oh, thank God.” Draco exhaled as they moved away. “I couldn’t stand acting around them for another minute.”

Harry snorted as Draco immediately opened his robes, revealing a plum colored crop top over a  _ mesh shirt _ with neon green shorts and his famous blue Doc Martens. Harry (who had already seen the monstrosity this morning but didn’t think he would actually  _ show  _ it) let out a distressed whine.

“I can’t  _ believe _ you.”

Somehow, even with Draco looking like a pop star from the 2000’s- which, holy shit, that was ten years away- they made it onto the train without any interference. The compartment they found was empty, and they quickly took the window seats on either side.

Harry pulled a book on magical theory from the small bag he carried with him and brought his legs up to rest on Draco’s lap. Draco, who had grabbed his own copy of a potions book was quick to use the legs as a table for his book. “You know,” He started while finding his place in the book, “Potions really isn’t as bad as Rowling makes it out to be.”

Remembering the headache even looking at the charts of ingredient uses gave him, Harry replied skeptically, “Seriously?”

“I mean, it’s not  _ easy  _ but it’s pretty much just magical chemistry.” Ah, a subject Harry had failed twice in high school.

“That sounds even worse than normal chemistry. How the hell you even make sense of that I-” He cut off as the compartment door slid open.

Two familiar figures stood in the doorway and Harry was in  _ awe.  _ Somehow it hadn’t fully processed that he would be meeting the others of his year now. He was Harry Potter, yeah, but the brightest witch and slayer of Nagini stood across from him and he was thrilled.

“Have you seen a toad? Neville-  _ you’re Harry Potter.” _ Right. The scar.

“Oh, yeah. Hi.” He waved awkwardly and reached for his wand. “Did you want me to summon Trevor?”

Draco inhaled sharply and gave Harry a deadly look. “Oh, uh,” Hermione stammered for a moment before furrowing her brow, “Wait, I didn’t say his name?”

Oh.

“I overheard you saying it at the other compartments.” It was total bullshit, but apparently true as Hermione visibly relaxed. “Anyways, toad?”

Hermione nodded and Harry raised his wand, “Accio Trevor.” And a moment later the panicked toad came sailing into his outstretched hand. “Here you are.” He grinned while leaning to pass the toad to Neville. Hermione tilted her head, probably considering the casual use of magic.

“Thanks! I’m Neville Longbottom.” He rushed with a slight stutter to his words.

Harry shook his hand and looked towards Hermione. “Hermione Granger. You’re both first years?” Harry saw her eyes linger on Draco’s tragic outfit with curiosity.

“Yeah, I’m Ha-”

“Everyone knows Harry he doesn’t need to introduce himself.  _ I’m  _ Draco Malfoy.” Draco cut off with a smirk that made him look too much like a Malfoy for Harry’s liking.

Hermione’s entire body became tense and she muttered ‘Malfoy?’ under her breath earning a laugh from Harry. Clearly she already knew enough about wizarding society to know the weight behind his name. “Oh,” Draco added, obviously noticing the same, “Don’t worry. I’m not some crazy blood-purist like my family.”

She remained still and tense until Harry reassured, “Really, though. I’m a half-blood who was raised by muggles, and he has no issue with me.”

“Well, pleasure to meet you.” She said while moving to sit beside Harry. “Are you excited for Hogwarts?” Harry didn’t miss the way she had to practically drag Neville in behind her. The poor kid looked terrified as he sat next to Draco.

It was kind of a dumb question to ask, but she was just trying to break the ice between them. “Of course! Which house do you think you’ll get?” That was fairly direct, but Harry was always annoyed by that in canon. It felt as if Hermione was dragged into Gryffindor after hearing the positive aspects of it from Ron and Harry. Hermione was brave, yes, but Harry knew she would thrive in a setting where she was fully encouraged to pursue knowledge and never put down for it.

“I’m not sure.” She admitted. “Gryffindor doesn’t seem bad…”

Harry snorted, “Maybe not, but Gryffindor’s also full of rowdy party kids. Definitely not my scene.” Draco smothered a laugh at that.

“Which house do you think you’ll be in then?” Hermione questioned, doing her best not to look offended.

“I wouldn’t mind Ravenclaw. I’m really interested in learning as much as I can about magic and that’s definitely the place to do it.” Hermione gained a thoughtful look at that and Harry felt proud. He really did hope she ended up in Ravenclaw. It would be good for her in the long run. Plus, it’s not like Harry would be with her if she was in Gryffindor. “I think I’m guaranteed for Slytherin, though.”

“What makes you say that?”

At that moment Basil perked up from her place on Harry’s shoulder. “Well, there’s the whole snake thing going for me.” He laughed and hissed quiet affections to the snake that leaned into his cheek. 

“ _ You can speak parseltongue?!”  _ Hermione looked outraged. “How?!”

Harry opened his mouth to spout some bullshit response when the door opened again. This time it was an all too familiar Weasley flanked by two more.

“Woah, so you really are going to Hogwarts?” Ron looked stunned. Harry noticed one twin pass the other a few coins.

“Well, yeah. At least I hope that’s where the trains going.”

Draco snorted and Ron’s eyes snapped over. “Ugh, Malfoy, what the hell are you doing here?”

Draco, who apparently forgot the reputation of the Malfoy family, froze. “Uh,”

Ron ignored him and turned back to Harry. He stepped part way in and leaned over Hermione to offer Harry his hand. “I’m Ron Weasley.” He sent a sharp glare to Draco, “Some wizarding families are much better than others, Harry. You don’t want to go making friends with the wrong ones. Don’t worry, I’ll help you there.”

Harry was dumbfounded, and Draco wasn’t much better. He barely recovered himself enough to reply, “I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks.”

Ron hadn’t even left the compartment when Draco  _ lost it. _

\--

The inside of the castle was just as grand and magnificent as the outside, and Draco stared at the ceiling and marveled at the huge expanse of columns, tables, and floating torches. The Great Hall was packed with students, and he nudged Harry and pointed toward the vibrant red of the Weasley twins at the Gryffindor table. 

“There’s your future housemates” Draco teased, just loud enough to be heard over the chatter. 

Harry blinked, nonplussed. 

“Who says I’ll be Gryffindor? I mean, really,  _ me  _ in Gryffindor?” 

It was Draco’s turn to look confused. “I thought we would be in the same houses as canon?“ 

“Did you miss the whole sorting conversation on the train?” Harry wondered just how Draco had gone this long without considering that aspect. Obviously they weren’t guaranteed to be in their canon houses; they were different people this time. Quite literally in fact.

“No! I just-“ 

He was cut off by the sorting hat’s song, and the whole hall hushed to hear it sing. It was frankly terrible. Slightly off key, but the kids around them looked entranced so Draco guessed he was just being picky. Really, he shouldn’t be judging a hat’s tune in the first place. 

He took the time during the song to stare straight at Dumbledore, willing the man to meet his eyes.

_ I know you can hear my thoughts, Dumbledore. _

Draco was remarkably disappointed when the man didn’t show any signs of hearing him.

The first years were ushered into a straight line, and despite being told to go alphabetically Draco stuck by Harry. The sorting began, and Draco tuned out the beginning of the alphabet, but noticed that Harry was paying rapt attention. 

At Hermoine’s name, Draco leaned over in line to watch her sorting. 

_ Gryffind-  _

“ _ Ravenclaw _ !” 

“ _ What”  _ Draco hissed. Basil perked up from Harry’s shoulder, looking almost impressed. 

He smacked Harry’s shoulder repeatedly, avoiding Basil who was eyeing him with annoyance at the motion.

“What did we do!?” 

Harry turned to look at him with a smug expression. 

“You- you said that stuff about Ravenclaw on purpose, didn’t you! God, I can’t believe you!” 

Harry just snickered and turned back around, all too proud of his accomplishment.

Moments later Draco was called to the front and he let out a whine. How the fuck hadn’t he anticipated this? Of course he wouldn’t be a Slytherin. He didn’t have a single Slytherin bone in his body! Maybe Ravenclaw?

He thought this over as the hat was placed on his head. Ravenclaw wouldn’t be that bad. They weren’t held in a negative standing like Gryffindor and-

“ _ Hufflepuff!” _

This time it was Harry’s turn to absolutely lose it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We made a discord server!! Join us for shitty memes and maybe actual discussion!!:  
> https://discord.gg/Mnxc6qX


	4. Take 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chap is so short we just really wanted to post SOMETHING and it seemed like a good ending place lol

Draco couldn’t believe this was happening. His father was going to kill him oh god- 

He finally noticed the quiet. There was a couple half hearted claps from muggleborn kids who didn’t know any better- but the entire Slytherin table was silent, and the older Hufflepuffs looked gobsmacked. Even the teacher’s table was still. Was this what Sirius felt, getting Gryffindor all those years ago? The son of a famously dark family, getting a ‘light’ house? Was the reaction the same?

The moment broke when Harry enthusiastically started clapping- Draco wanted to smack him- and the rest of the tables finally joined in, albeit more reserved than Harry. Draco shakily got up from the stool and made his way to the yellow and black decorated table. There was an empty space near the end and he gratefully took it. While he was secretly relieved he didn’t get Slytherin, Draco was nervous of how his family would react. At least Tonks would be ecstatic. 

Truthfully, he was hoping his friendship with the ‘new dark lord’ would spare him his father’s anger. It was likely to work, as long as Harry didn’t break the ruse before at least third year.

Ignoring the kids around him for now, Draco turned back to the sorting which had resumed behind him. Luckily, Harry’s turn came soon.

Harry- who, unlike Draco- was having a  _ fantastic  _ time. Everything was going exactly as he wanted it- Hermoine was in Ravenclaw, a house that would let her shine, Draco was exactly where he belonged, and as for himself? He knew exactly where the hat would put him.

Was he concerned about the consequences? Sure, he had read fanfiction. Nothing good would come of being sorted into the one house he should try to avoid. He was also, however, a thirty year old woman with a habit of starting chaos in places she Very Much Should Not.

With Basil a comforting weight on his shoulders, Harry stepped up to the stool. He saw Dumbledore’s eyes land on her and widen comically. He smirked, and allowed Mcgonagall to put the hat on his head. 

It didn’t take very long for-

“ _ Slytherin!”  _

The reaction was immediate. Raucous cheering broke out from Slytherin- Lucius must have been gossiping about him to the other dark families. The other houses broke out into harsh whispers. He heard Mcgonagall sigh behind him, resigned. And when he turned to look, Albus Dumbledore had knocked over his chair in shock. 

Harry made very pointed eye contact with him, and then winked. Dumbledore paled even further. Snickering, Harry turned and went to sit with the Snakes. 

Yes, everything was going exactly how he wanted. 

Everything was certainly  _ not _ going how Draco wanted.

Draco was trying to get Harry’s attention across the hall, all while avoiding the attempts at conversation from the girl next to him. Just as he got Harry’s attention, the blonde haired girl tapped his shoulder. 

“ _ What?”  _ He snapped, turning to face her.

“There’s a snake on your plate.” She said, unfazed by both his curt tone and the highly dangerous snake next to her hand.

Draco looked down. Basil was currently sniffing experimentally at his food, instead of being by Harry’s side  _ where she should be _ . 

Oh.

He sheepishly thanked her before whipping around to look at Harry, gesturing wildly at the snake. Harry flashed a big thumbs up and grinned. 

Basil then hissed a  _ very _ complicated sentence that Draco was absolutely unequipped to understand with only a couple hours of parseltongue study. 

“Basil. Basil. Basil please slow down. I can’t follow- he wants to  _ what?”  _

“ _ Harry _ .  _ Talk. Sneaky. This is so demeaning. Taaaaalk. Night time.”   _

_ “ _ Wh- oh fuck this- sorry Basil, I’m not gonna force you to play intermediary, please go tell him he’s an idiot and that I can’t speak snake,” Draco whispered to her, completely missing everyone’s startled expressions, before placing her gently on the floor. 

He turned to the girl next to him, considering. She wasn’t half bad for an eleven year old. Wasn’t phased at all by his bullshit. He abruptly held out his hand. 

“Hi. I’m Draco Malfoy. That was Basil. What’s your name?” 

She looked up, and smiled, shaking his hand. “Hannah. Hannah Abbot. There’s a snake on your plate again.” 

“Oh for fucks sake- hi again Basil.” He blinked at the piece of paper held in her mouth. He carefully retrieved it (definitely not insulted by the way she slithered off immediately) and glanced at the writing- it was in Spanish. Draco supposes that writing in a language other than English makes for a temporary code, considering their location in Northern Europe. Not that no other student would understand Spanish, but it was less common here than in America. French was a much more common choice of a second language due to the proximity of Beauxbatons.

_ ‘Need to talk later. Sneak out of dorms at midnight and meet outside great hall’  _

Draco was about to write a scathing reply in which he mentioned they didn't have the invisibility cloak or any way to stop the portraits from being dirty snitches when Harry finally just walked over with a hissing Basil on his shoulders.

“She won't deliver any more messages. Something about it being ‘demeaning for a serpent of her stature’ or some bullshit.” Harry passed Draco another folded paper as he continued, “should have just gotten Hedwig… ungrateful ass…”

Draco was sure the kids around who didn't understand every niche meme reference were more than a bit concerned.

Ignoring the looks from the other Hufflepuffs- they were getting good at that- Harry pulled out a wrapped item from  _ Draco has no idea where  _ and dropped it on the table in front of him. “I wouldn’t recommend opening this here. See you later.” With that he waved nonchalantly and sauntered back to the Slytherin table where he fell into effortless conversation with who Draco would later learn was Blaise Zabini (because leave it to Harry to make friends with the influential kids Draco knew).

The rest of dinner was calm compared to the stunts the two had already pulled, and Draco supposed they were allowed a night of rest before the storm that would likely be the rest of the year. He spent the remainder of his meal talking with Hannah and her friend Susan. Susan  _ Bones  _ who was related to Amelia Bones otherwise known as the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

The universe was truly making it too easy for them.

For what was probably the second time in his life Draco listened to Harry’s instructions and waited until the students were escorted to their dorms to open the gift. While he was eager to explore every nook and cranny of his new dorm, he was more excited to see what bullshit Harry had in store this time. When he was in the privacy of his own bed, he unwrapped it to find a silky silver material. He cursed.

How had Harry been able to find let alone afford an invisibility cloak? It wasn’t as if it would last long, but it would certainly last until Christmas as long as Harry received the Hallow version then.

Draco wondered if the idiot had actually spent the money on two cloaks as he snuck out before he arrived at the great hall to see Harry casually leaning against the wall. “Dude!”

Harry looked up and grinned, “Like the cloak? Figured it would do until Christmas and I don’t wanna have to pick you up from Hufflepuff every time we sneak out.”

Lowering the cloak to only drape it around his shoulders Draco asked, “Wait, then how did you sneak out?”

“I just left.” At Draco’s affronted noise he elaborated, “Man, I’m Harry Potter. No one cares if I’m out past curfew. They probably expect it. What do you think Canon Harry did before he got the cloak?”

“Got detention?”

“Not if I’m careful. Basil warns me if people come too close.”

“How did you afford this?”

“I’m still a Potter, remember?” Draco widened his eyes, not expecting Harry to be able to access the full Potter vaults yet, when Harry snorted. “Nah, it was girls night before I left so I stole all the cash from Petunia’s purse.”

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah, so I’m  _ really  _ not going back over the summer.”

"That's brave, dude. Godspeed if she ever sees you again."

Suddenly Basil hissed, and Harry ducked into an alcove and Draco hastily put the cloak back on as a prefect wandered around the corner. 

“Damn… we should find somewhere better to talk.” Draco whispered once the girl had passed by.

“Let’s find a room.” Harry said, confidently pushing off of the wall and moving down the hall. 

As much as Harry and Draco already loved Hogwarts, the school was a nightmare to navigate. The halls were sprawling and complicated, twisting turns and dead ends and  _ moving staircases.  _

Of course they got lost. 

And  _ of course _ they stumbled across some sort of clandestine meeting between a harried looking Dumbledore and the longsuffering deputy headmistress. 

“-Slytherin, Minerva! And a parselmouth! The scar- do you think- it  _ must  _ be Tom! We knew he would make a move soon but not  _ this  _ soon!” 

“Albus be reasonable-“

Harry was certain that Canon Minerva and Dumbledore would have handled this differently. But these two? He was pretty sure they already broke them.

Draco watched as Dumbledore’s eye seemingly spasmed involuntarily before he brought his hands up in a sweeping gesture, face panicked.

“Reasonable? It’s the only explanation! Riddle must be possessing him! He has managed it before!” 

“No. Listen. I saw that young boy hug a friend while  _ crying _ . Can you honestly see You-Know-Who giving a hug? Harry is his own person. Despite his house, despite  _ everything,  _ that young boy is  _ good.  _ And he’s already made friends with a Badger.” 

Harry smiled at the praise and faith and leaned further around the wall to watch. 

“The Hufflepuff-  _ The Malfoy!?”  _

“ _ Albus-” _

_ “Of course  _ the Malfoys got their hands on him! In his youth Tom’s most trusted was Abraxas Malfoy so of  _ course-” _

Draco was torn between laughing and the strange need to defend his family.

“ _ Albus!” _ Minerva’s shout seemed to finally get through to the rambling old man. “Despite whatever you may believe you have only known the boy a night! Give it time!”

“Minerva, I’m telling you, I won’t make the same mistake and ignore this twice-”

“ _ Albus.  _ You did not see what I have. He questioned me from the beginning, inherited  _ Salazar Slytherin’s wand, _ bought a snake that he  _ spoke to,  _ and greeted Draco Malfoy, who he should not know at all, like an old friend. Yet even  _ I  _ can see there is more to him than some echoes of a man long since dead!” Minerva held up a hand to cut off Dumbledore’s words. Harry and Draco barely held back a cheer. “ _ No.  _ Voldemort may live, but Tom Riddle is dead. The boy that you see in Harry Potter has been dead for decades and may have not been inherently evil if not for the steps  _ you  _ took. I won’t allow you to vilify and neglect another child to that point!”

“ _ Holy shit.”  _ Draco whispered reverently once the two had cleared the area.

“Yeah, so, I’d rather not do that again.” Draco nodded in agreement. “Where’s the Hufflepuff common room?”

—

Harry could see just why Draco belonged in Hufflepuff. It was said the rooms were perfect for those of the house, and he was sure it was true for Draco. The colors were all comforting gold and yellows with hints of black here and there. Everything about the room was warm even without the burning fire place and blankets stacked near it.

Personally, he preferred the cool of the Slytherin rooms and the view of the lake with the colorful fish that went by, but he could see the appeal here too. Draco seemed to relax as they entered and Harry barely held back a grin.

“So, that was a thing we witnessed.” Harry deadpanned as he collapsed on the plush bed next to Draco.

“God, I can’t believe we broke them like that.” Draco hummed before turning to Harry again, “Did you really know you were gonna get Slytherin?”

“Draco. I took like 30 quizzes our last life  _ and  _ now I can talk to snakes. Of course I was a Slytherin.”

“Yeah, fair.” Draco frowned with a sudden realization. “Did you actually have anything you wanted to meet about?”

“Hm?” Harry sighed, “I was gonna let you know I ordered some two-way mirrors, but I also just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Because coming to Hogwarts was enough of a challenge without being reincarnated into the main character of a popular series and fucking with ancient wizards.

“I'm fine, Harry.” Draco whispered as he twisted to face Harry with a fond smile. “Okay, but, how good is your Tom Riddle impression?”

Barking out a laugh, Harry half-assedly slapped Draco's arm. “I  _ hate _ you for suggesting that.”

“Because you're gonna do it?”

“Obviously.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Draco: *do anything*  
> The entire school: :0 wot mate


	5. Take 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it's literally been months but we both got super busy with school so sorry!
> 
> ** Just a note there's a bit of heavy talk about abuse and panic attacks but it is pretty vague and brief so if you want to skip that you can skip from when Harry goes to visit Dumbledore to when Harry meets up with Draco after **

Shocking absolutely no one, Draco and Harry managed to cause a scene before they even woke up.

Really, it was Zacharias Smith that caused a fuss, but Draco was happy to take the blame. Just another line on his resume.

Apparently the kid was horrified by Harry desecrating a sacred Hufflepuff room or such nonsense, and Draco was almost terrified to ask exactly what he meant. He guessed it was the fact that the rest of the dorm woke to find a Hufflepuff, Slytherin, and snake sharing a bed.

It was hard to believe that no one in the entire history of Hogwarts ever went to different dorms. Maybe he was just mad it was the first night of their first year. Or perhaps this was their first example of how deep the divisions between houses ran. He had assumed the only real rivalry was between Slytherin and Gryffindor.

Either way, Draco was fully prepared to fuck with the house point system beyond belief.

Draco was probably the only student excited to have potions first thing Monday morning. The Slytherins wouldn’t hate it, but they were also shown an unnecessary bias by Snape.

A bias Draco was looking forward to utterly destroying. After all, he was Snape’s godson, the heir to a prominent dark family, and a _Hufflepuff._ He wasn’t worried about being bad at potions given how simple the textbooks made it seem, and wondered if the canon characters just exaggerated the difficulty.

In class he was paired with a nice Ravenclaw named Su Li, and she didn’t seem to have reservations about becoming his friend which was a pleasant surprise. The Hufflepuff boys were certainly wary the previous night and gave him his space after seeing him interact with Basil at dinner. 

Now, Draco had known Severus Snape his entire life. He was his godfather after all. He wasn’t the worst person he had ever met, but his judgement was certainly altered by his past life. Ariel did, after all, have a Spotify playlist named “Dig Snape Up And Bury Him Again”. Still, it was hard to hate someone you see that often without good reason. 

He now had reason.

Draco didn’t expect Snape to actually _yell_ at little eleven year-olds on their _first day._ The first day of classes was supposed to be about reading a syllabus and getting to know each other, not being told to make a potion with zero explanation or instruction. 

While he was _pissed,_ he was calm enough to get through the class with the knowledge that come Friday Harry would _eviscerate him._ Harry had never taken lightly to people abusing their power, and especially not against children. God, he wanted nothing more than to sit in on that lesson.

Somehow, it wasn’t until half-way through his transfiguration class that Draco made a scene. And, really, it wasn’t _his_ fault. He wasn’t the one who decided to use his pet venomous snake as a damn carrier pigeon.

Basil was about as thrilled as he was as she slithered through the doorway and to his desk. He was near the back of the room so she was able to make it to his desk without the other students noticing.

“Basil, I’m so sorry he does this to you.” He understood the hissed ‘thanks’ while he opened the note from Harry. It was completely useless, really, and was only delivered because Harry was bored as hell during his history class. (Draco chose to ignore the last sentence asking if there was a way to exorcise ghosts.)

He had only just started scribbling a reply when the boy next to him- Ernie Something- let out a sound like an injured deer.

McGonagall whipped around to face him, saw Basil, sighed, and seemed to lose any anger she held. “Mister Malfoy, please inform Mister Potter that pets are not welcome in my class.”

Draco wasn’t sure if she was so casual about it because it was the first day or because she really didn’t want to deal with him again. “Sorry.” Seeing the way McGonagall just sighed again and turned back to the board where she was explaining magical theory, Draco placed Basil back on the floor with his note that featured a hastily written ‘stop using Basil’ in red ink.

\--

Harry looked up from where he was doodling with the variety of gel pens he brought.

 _“Welcome back, Basil.”_ Harry hissed as the snake curled onto his shoulders and nudged at his chin lovingly. _“What did he say?”_ He asked even as he unfolded the note.

 _“Not much,”_ Basil replied. _“He cannot speak well.”_

Harry snorted at her blunt tone. _“He’s doing his best, sweetheart.”_

Already the students around him appeared to be getting used to his frequent parseltongue chats, which was a relief because he was getting annoyed by the constant stares.

“What’s her name?” Hermione leaned over with a somewhat hesitant smile. While sure that Canon Hermione would never talk during class, it appeared that even she wasn’t immune to the boredom associated with their ghost of a teacher. “You never mentioned on the train, so…” Hermione rambled a bit and Harry grinned.

“Basil!” Hermione was taken aback and he continued, “Short for Basilisk.”

“Oh, my God.”

“She wouldn’t agree to Julius Squeezer and this was the next best thing.”

Hermione seemed torn between amusement and correcting him but eventually gave in and said “Well, it makes sense, since she’s not a constrictor. She looks like a black mamba, and they use speed and venom to take down prey, not physical strength.”

“William Snakespeare?” There was a pause where Hermione seemed to realize he didn’t shut her down for presenting information and instead urged the conversation forward.

The Ravenclaw stopped to think for a moment and eventually perked up while snapping her fingers, “Fanghiss Khan!”

“ _Oh,_ ” Harry turned to Basil, “That’s a two-for-one deal!”

The snake hissed a line of unpleasantries and Hermione even moved back a bit. “I don’t think she likes that one.”

Harry sighed and shrugged in response. “She’s picky! A real drama queen.”

“Maybe she just hates _hiss_ tory.”

“Mm, much better at math. A real _adder.”_ Hermione had to cover her mouth to hold in her laughter while casting nervous glances at the professor.

Harry was _thrilled._ Hermione was happier than Harry had ever imagined and she was someone Harry could see becoming a close friend.

It was weird to be about 30 and befriending 11 year-olds, but he didn’t really have a choice in the matter. Age was something he preferred not to think about considering the issues surrounding it.

Draco had agreed with these statements overall, but they were relieved to at least have each other. Harry wasn’t sure what he would have done in this life without Draco.

Kill Snape, for one.

Not that the thought wasn’t tempting either way, but lately Harry found himself putting more thought into the decisions he made. He had to look out for Draco and the others he had befriended, so maybe he shouldn’t plan to murder Snape after one potions class.

Not that it wasn’t tempting.

\--

Draco sprinted into the Great Hall in a way that would make Lucius furious. (Which, really, that was the driving force behind most of his actions.)

He practically slid onto the bench to Harry’s left and looked to him expectantly. “Well?” He asked after a moment where he allowed Basil to climb over onto his shoulders.

“Well what?” Harry frowned in his direction while grabbing another piece of bread.

“What happened in potions?”

Harry hummered, “Snape was pretty pissed that I was able to answer his questions.”

“I think you mean pretty _hiss_ ed.” Harry held up a hand for a high-five without turning to the speaker.

Draco leaned forward to see Hermione sitting on Harry’s other side. “Oh, hey Hermione.”

Hermione nodded in greeting while Draco continued to address Harry, “Ok, but, I know damn well you wouldn’t just sit silently through a potions class with him. What did you do?”

“Nothing.” Harry’s brows furrowed. He seemed to end the conversation for a moment while taking a few bites of his dinner. Draco had just decided to join him when Harry turned with a quiet, “ _Yet.”_ Whispered in a slow parseltongue Draco was able to understand.

Draco shuddered at Harry’s malicious grin and turned back to his food. Suddenly struck by a thought, Draco turned to Harry and mentioned _oh so casually_ , “We’re one week in and I’ve gained 40 points for Hufflepuff. How about you?”

Harry looked confused and then with a dawning understanding said, “35. It would be more if Snape hadn’t taken 20 for bogus reasons.” 

“I bet I could gain more than you.” Draco challenged.

“Hey. Snape would ruin my chances in a matter of weeks. Unless…” here, Harry’s grin was sharp and sly, “... unless you lost as many to Snape as I do. Howabout this- the one who _loses_ the most points to Snape and _gains_ the most points everywhere else is the winner.” 

“We’re in!” two voices interrupted in unison, startling Draco into spilling his soup. He turned to see the Weasley twins with identical looks of glee on their faces. 

“We love a good challenge, right Gred?” one joked.

“Certainly, Forge.” the other replied.

“How will we keep track?” they finished together.

Draco decided then and there he would find a way to put permanent name tags on them. 

“Honor system?” he suggested. 

The twins looked shocked, and Draco assumed it was because they didn’t think a Malfoy would trust their word but- no that’s not it. They seemed shocked that _anyone_ would trust them to truthfully self report their scores. 

“It's just a game, yeah? I trust everyone to be honest.” Draco casually said, and inwardly despaired at the twins fragile expressions. How long have they been playing up the jokester personas? How long since anyone has trusted them to be serious?

Hermione let out a sigh that immediately drew their attention from the awkward moment. “As much as I disagree with trying to _lose_ points,” Draco most definitely wasn’t shocked by Harry’s answering grin to that, “The overall goal is gaining points so I can’t exactly _disagree._ ”

“See? Hermione can be our ref.” Hermione rolled her eyes at Harry’s logic.

“So! We’re all agreed.” Draco wasn’t sure if he wanted to think about the implications of what his idea would spawn.

Thus began the Great Point War.

\--

Harry was sure that school would be horrid a second time around, but the weeks seemed to fly by. It was nearly Halloween. Granted, Harry knew the reason he wasn’t bored out of his mind was due to learning _magic,_ but when faced with yet another essay on potion ingredients he was tempted to drop out.

Essays had always been more of Draco’s strong suit in their previous lives, and Harry couldn’t recall just how many times he had roped Draco into writing essays for him. Harry’s skill set had always been in the physical tests. Despite not knowing how to complete a simple chemistry quiz, the labs had been flawless.

It had always worked well as a symbiotic relationship between the two. Now though, Harry found he couldn’t rely on Draco since there was no way to pay him back in lab classes. Herbology was the closest they got since Harry found dealing with the plants to be fairly easy.

Apparently it was just the thrill of _magic_ carrying him through the year until the Halloween feast. He was excited to see just what Hogwarts would have to offer for the holiday that became a strange mix between muggle Halloween and wizarding Samhain.

Until then, however, he and Draco dedicated themselves to making friends with the others in their year. Draco was close with Susan and Hannah on account of being in the same house, and the same could be said for Harry with Blaise and Theo.

They were both surprised by just how quickly Hermione fell into their circle, but guessed it was easier to befriend someone when a paranoid Gyffindor wasn’t constantly spouting hate in their ear.

Speaking of Gryffindors; the Weasley twins were _fun_ to be around. They had a sense of humor that fit perfectly with Harry’s brand of chaos (which terrified Draco no matter how much he was a part of it) and must less prejudiced than other members of their family.

Ron Weasley was a horrible and jealous child, and the two reincarnated souls had much more important things to deal with than a child. They may revisit the issue in a few years, but that would wait until he could look at someone with a Slytherin tie and not immediately draw a wand.

Their point seemed proven the night of the feast.

Harry was at the Hufflepuff table this night and froze when Quirrel scrambled to the front of the hall. “Troll! In the dungeon!”

“Oh, fuck.” Harry and Draco shared a look before glancing towards the Ravenclaw table.

Harry pushed a path through the panicked students to where a Ravenclaw prefect was guiding students, “Have you seen Hermione!?”

The sixth year looked to him with frantic eyes, “Granger? Why?” But the panic in her voice gave Harry his answer.

As they dashed out of the Great Hall, Draco asked what was tumbling over and over in his head. 

“Why would Hermione be in the bathroom? Haven’t we changed things?” 

Harry looked thoughtful before groaning, even as they ran. 

“Ron.”

“... _Ron.”_

Dashing up the stairs to the corridor, Harry and Draco shared a loaded look at the sound of Hermione’s scream coming from the girls bathroom. Running through the door, Harry saw first hand how tall a troll was. Basil hissed.

“Harry!” Hermione screeched, huddling under a sink, face pale. Harry glanced between her tear stained face and the hulking creature blocking her way out, and made a decision. 

“Draco, get it to drop the club!” Harry called, readying himself for the perfect opening. With unholy glee, Draco cast a blasting curse at its hand, only looking a little surprised when instead of knocking away the club, he blasted away the trolls _entire arm._

Unhesitating, Harry levitated the club (with pieces of arm still attached).

Even with the terror and adrenaline that comes with facing a twelve foot tall monster, Harry couldn’t help what came out of his mouth. 

“ _Vibe check!”_

And with a resounding crack, the trolls club _smacked_ across the back of its head like a baseball bat and the beast fell. 

It was then that the teachers arrived (late to the party) with a whirlwind of questions. Mcgonagall looked resigned, as if she expected nothing less than for Harry and Draco to be involved. Snape looked furious, as always, but it was Quirrell whos reaction was very telling. He looked shocked, and scared, not of the troll, no, but of _Harry._ The way his eyes flickered from Harry to the troll was almost _wary._ How fun. Harry couldn’t wait to exploit that fear in the future.

Thankfully, between the three kids, they managed to explain the situation without losing too many house points before being promptly shuffled off to their respective dorms. 

—

After the chaotic Halloween night, things calmed down. Classes continued, and though students were sometimes tense, life at Hogwarts was back to normal. 

Hermione was inseparable, joining them for meals and cracking more terrible snake puns. Draco hung out with Hannah and Susan at least once a week, and made sure to keep up with homework and outside study. 

As the season changed, time moved steadily towards winter break.

—

Harry had never wanted to be wrong more than while making the trip to Dumbledore’s office. It had only taken four tries to guess the password, and, really what was the point if it was so easy to guess, before Harry was slowly making his way up the staircase.

He had always been wary of how this conversation would go since it wasn’t avoidable.

“Come in, my boy.” Sometimes Harry was still shocked by the descriptions of ‘my boy’ or ‘young man’. But those were thoughts to store away until another deep late night talk with Draco. “What troubles you at this hour?”

Harry took a moment to wonder if any other student showing up after curfew would be tolerated. “I- I was wondering about break.” He took a moment to collect his thoughts while Dumbledore remained silent, “I know we have the option to stay over break, but then I was thinking about summer and…” He pretended not to notice the slight crease in Dumbledore’s brow. “Is there any way I could stay at the castle?”

The thought crossed him that part of Dumbledore’s fear of this conversation came, once again, from Tom Riddle. So many students of that era had feared going home to the middle of a war and Dumbledore hadn’t let them stay. He needed to know why.

“Now, as much as I wish you could, I should also tell you there are wards around your home to keep you safe.”

“Safe from what?”

And Dumbeldore faltered. Voldemort hadn’t returned. Hadn’t even publicly made the grab for the stone.

“You have heard the stories of He-Who-Should-Not-Be-Named, yes?” Harry nodded, doing his best to look distraught.

“Yes, sir, he killed my parents.” Another topic that was strange to Harry. He found it hard to mourn for something he hadn’t really known. And found the brief memories of the Potters took a back seat to his own original parents. “But… isn’t he dead?”

“There are some who believe he escaped that night.”

Harry forced himself to take a deep breath and calm down. “Then, wouldn’t Hogwarts be safer?”

“The wards around your house will keep you even safer than this castle.” Dumbledore nodded as if giving Harry a sacred scrap of wisdom.

“Sir.” It was so hard to keep his voice even. “My relatives. They aren’t exactly fond of me.”

Dumbledore shook his head, “I’m sure that isn’t true.”

“Sir.” His voice was much harsher than even he had intended. “You don’t understand.”

“Oh, I understand. All families have arguments sometimes.” He _laughed._

“No, they-”

“I assure you it will be fine to retur-”

“They locked me in a cupboard!” At least that seemed to shut Dumbledore up. “I would go days without food! They _abused_ me!”

He was honestly terrified by the calm in Dumbledore’s eyes. “That’s not something to joke about, Harry.”

_“What?”_

“We shouldn’t exaggerate about some topics.” Dumbledore’s tone seemed to leave no room for argument.

“I would _never-”_ He didn’t realize he was crying until he sniffed and brought up a sleeve to wipe at his eyes. “Is this a fucking joke?”

“Language, Mister Potter.”

“Language?! You just told me to go back to a house you _know_ is abusive and you’re scolding me for language?!” Harry hadn’t really had panic attacks like he used to in his last life. Now wasn’t a time that he should either. There was nothing that could send him back. He had a secure home with the Malfoys and Sirius was soon to be freed.

A part of him considered that his rage was on behalf of the original Harry Potter. The kid who didn’t know about magic until it because his saviour, only to have it ripped away and be shoved back into a hell he thought he was free from.

His hands were shaking and chest painful as he stood from the chair when Dumbledore went to speak. “No, don’t give me any of that bullshit! You _knew_ from the moment you dropped me off! McGonagall tried to talk you out of it but you still left me! You _knew_ my mother’s sister was horrid to her and how she would treat me!”

Dumbledore’s gaze lost all pretense of compassion as Harry shakily stepped backwards to the door. “You will return this summer and I suggest you accept that.”

The words sent a sharp lash of fear and dread through him but he took another shaky breath and demanded, “I won’t be part of your fucking games.”

\--

Harry and Draco met up outside the kitchens, Harry furiously pacing and Draco confused. He’d been woken from sleep. 

“What did he say?”

“He wants to send me back to the fucking _Dursley’s,_ even after I told him what they do to me. He said that I was _exaggerating.”_

At that, Draco started forward, a murderous expression on his face, wand held in a tight grip. 

“I’ll kill him.” It was spoken with a quiet conviction, as if it were simply a fact of the universe: Dumbledore would die, and Harry was fully convinced he would have to dig a grave that night. He couldn’t say he was upset about that.

However, before he could take two steps, a small rat came running around the corner, with the distinct red hair of Ron Weasley following after. They shared a puzzled look, anger shelved, and watched the poor kid chase the rat for about 30 seconds before Draco took pity and accio’d the rat to his hands. Glancing over to the panting Gryffindor, he asked what happened.

“Fred and George thought it would be funny to let him loose after hours! He ran all the way down here!” He explained a touch too loudly.

Harry smacked his shoulder before making a shushing motion. Ron looked like he swallowed a lemon at being touched by a Slytherin but thankfully quieted down.  
  
It had become a habit for Draco to occasionally check for mind readers or spies. By “check”, he meant “stare at someone thinking ‘I know you’re in my head, get out’”. In a world where people could read minds, or turn into animals and spy, like Rita Skeeter, or any other number of things, Draco was a tad paranoid. But a man who keeps a machete by his bed is wrong every day but one. So if he sometimes approached random animals whispering “I know your secret”, well…

He wasn’t expecting it to work.

He certainly wasn’t expecting it to work on a certain rat.

Ron squealed as Scabbers writhed out of Draco’s hand and transformed into an adult man. In his panic, Ron fumbled and dropped his wand, and it was immediately snatched up by Pettigrew. He brandished it threateningly, wavering between the three of them, hands shaking.

“Ah, shit.” Draco muttered. This night was going terribly.

“Hey guys, look, it’s Peter.” Harry deadpanned. He looked less than impressed at the small man. At those words however, Pettigrew paled and pointed his wand at Harry.

Draco, meanwhile, was feeling the most vindicated he had ever felt. 

“My machete!”

Everything seemed to pause, as everyone turned to look at Draco in confusion. 

“My one day! My goddamn machete! All it takes is being right _once._ ” 

“Is right now really the best time for your particular brand of absurdity?” Harry asked. 

“Yes! Because I _found one!”_ Draco waved a careless hand at Pettigrew, who was standing there, too stunned to move. 

“You fucking idiot, how can you find one we already knew was there!?” 

Ron looked like his whole life was being called into question- which- it’s not every day that your beloved pet rat turns out to have been a grown ass man. 

“Sh-shut up!” Pettigrew yelled, then, “Stupefy!” and Ron collapsed unconscious. Before Harry could start a spell, there was a shout from down the hall.

“Expelliarmus! Incarcerous!” 

As Pettigrew slammed to the ground in ropes, Harry was never happier to see Pomona Sprout in his life.


	6. Take 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who commented <3<3 We love you all

Hermione Granger had always been the top of her class. It was something the other kids in her class had mocked, but not something she had ever wanted to change. She didn’t know how they went through life _not_ constantly buried in a book. There was so much about the world to discover and she was determined to unravel it.

Normally, she would never change this about herself.

Now, however, she was growing tired of the constant headaches.

The wizarding world had been an incredible discovery for Hermione. She had begged her parents for an early allowance for weeks until she had been able to owl order as many books as possible. No amount of reading would have ever prepared her for the world she was about to enter. Still, she would much rather be as prepared for her classes as possible.

Then she had received a book on wizarding traditions. To learn that anyone born of muggle parents was regarded as so much… _less_ was infuriating. Did those born into magic not learn anything of muggle society? The wars and horrible losses over judgements just as superficial were something she learned at a young age, but these kids must have no clue. She still felt the sting of insults over the color of her skin, and now it was for a different aspect of her heritage?

Hermione was certain she would change the world one thick-headed pureblood at a time.

Then her first friends had been Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. Malfoy was a name she knew. It had been one of the first mentioned in the etiquette book relating to important families. Alongside the Black family the Malfoys were heralded as the textbook definition of a proper pure-blood family. They had been one of the first Hermione had targeted with her anti-pureblood scheme.

Draco Malfoy, however, had greeted her like an old friend without hesitation. Draco Malfoy had been friends with the Savior of the Light and child of two light wizards. Draco Malfoy had been dressed like the strangest muggle she had ever seen. _Draco bloody Malfoy_ had disregarded her blood status without a care in the world.

Hermione was sure that was an even greater shock than stumbling into this world to begin with.

It hadn’t helped that Harry Potter seemed to have been friends with the Malfoy heir for years. They clung to each other with a fondness Hermione had only seen in family members. That was her first clue that something wasn’t as it seemed with the two.

When they were sorted, and _really,_ who had expected that, she was fully convinced she was missing some piece of the puzzle that everyone already understood. Except, everyone else seemed just as baffled by the two boys.

Thus, she had dedicated an entire notebook to the events of Hogwarts ft. Harry and Draco. It was almost upsetting that she had already filled half of it.

But, between excelling beyond even her in classes and taking down a full grown mountain troll by _blowing its arm off,_ she wasn’t exactly short on material.

That wasn’t to say she felt any closer to solving the mystery surrounding them. Every action seemed to raise more questions and Hermione felt as if she was making zero progress.

Her first theory was that they had simply known each other long before Hogwarts. She had written that one down the second Monday of October during charms.

The following day during lunch, the two boys had been in conversation with Neville Longbottom. “I can’t believe your father allows you to be friends with Harry.” Neville had  commented after a remark on Lucius’ strict tendencies. 

“Hm?” Draco had turned to him, “Oh, Harry and I didn’t meet until right before school started so he didn’t really have a choice.”

The conversation carried on and neither noticed Hermione furiously scribbling out a line of her notebook.

Her theories had continued to be disproven one by one after that until she was left at a standstill. Hermione _hated_ being so outmatched by a problem to solve. 

\--

Draco doesn’t know how things got to this point. Actually, he knew _exactly_ how. Every single problem of theirs could be traced back to two origins: Harry’s prophecy and their own goddamn idiotic decisions. Draco and Harry are two reckless impulsive dorks sharing one brain cell. 

Today, Harry must’ve had it, clearly. 

Looking at a fat little rat man squirming on the ground, an unconscious Weasley, and a red faced Herbology professor, Draco concluded that he deserved every consequence because it was a problem of his own making. 

Although, compared to arguments with his father and messed up potions, this problem did seem a bit more extreme.

Professor Sprout moved to check on Ron, apparently satisfied that he was contained by her spell. “He’ll be alright.” She informed the two after a brief moment. “It was only a stunner but we should still take him to Madame Pomphrey.”

The herbology teacher sighed and looked up to Harry, “Mr. Potter, please fetch Professor Dumbledore and inform him that he’s needed. I’ll alert the-”

“Uh.” Draco’s noise cut them off and both turned to where he was frozen and pointing towards the now slack ropes, “Where’s Peter?”

Harry, who had been so ready to see his godfather freed in the next few hours, groaned. “Fuck!”

Apparently Sprout felt the same for she didn’t even scold him for his language. “Harry, change your message. There’s an intruder lose in the school. Mr. Malfoy, please accompany him.” She added as an afterthought.

It would have been a bit too suspicious for either to inform her that Peter was gone and knew the passageways of Hogwarts well enough they would never catch him, so they nodded and left towards Dumbledore’s office.

The next few hours were a whirlwind that were honestly boring as hell to Harry and Draco. Aurors arrived at the school and both boys were subjected to questioning. Luckily Ron was afraid enough to be intimidated by a harsh glare and didn’t reveal what happened prior to getting attacked.

Soon the whole school found out Ron’s pet had actually been a secret animagus and it… didn’t impact too much honestly. Even the (mostly) Slytherins that were constantly picking on Ron realized just how traumatic something like this had to be for him.

So, aside from a few pitiful glances sent towards Ron, the school year carried on as normal.

It was only a week before break (and final exams) when Hermione approached Draco and Harry in the library.

She practically collapsed into the seat across from them with a groan. “Professor Quirrell is going to be the reason I fail my O.W.L.S.” She proclaimed.

“I mean, yeah, but, what else is new?” Harry answered as he flipped through the pages of his transfiguration book. “Don’t worry, he’ll be gone by the end of the year.”

He said it with such finality that Hermione just nodded. “Harry, you have the top grades in defense.” It was her inquisitive tone that urged him to set down his pen and look up to her. “How do you do it?”

“Practice.”

Hermione narrowed her eyes while Draco slid down in his seat to hide behind his own book. “When? We barely get any time in class with how distracted Professor Quirrell is!”

“Outside of class.” He wasn’t about to admit the sessions he and Draco often had in the room of requirement, but he did want to help Hermione.

“Teach me?”

“What.”

“Seriously! I talk about O.W.L.S. but midterms are only two weeks away! You’re obviously understanding the material better than anyone else and _Merlin knows_ I can’t ask the professor for help!” She had the same expression as when she learned about house elves, and Harry would be lying if he said he wasn’t afraid.

Harry opened his mouth to reply. “I have an idea.” His head snapped towards where Draco dropped his book barricade and was grinning. “Let’s start a study group!”

“What.” Harry’s mind short-circuited for a moment. “Why would _you_ want to start a study group?”

Hermione, however, didn’t give Draco time to reply and beamed, “Perfect! We could get Professor McGonagall to sign off and make this an official club!”

“A study _club?!”_

Draco turned to Harry with that damned Malfoy smile, “We can call it the Defense Association, or DA for short.”

“ _Oh.”_

\--

As he approached the castle, Lucius Malfoy wondered what he did so wrong to produce an heir like his son. Decades of Malfoy tradition, down the drain. A _Hufflepuff._ His son was a _duffer._ He couldn’t believe it. Sure, his son was a bit on the softer side ( _must have been his mother)_ , and placed the few people he loved far higher than anything else ( _was Lucius one of those few?)_ , but- actually, Lucius could see exactly why his son was a Hufflepuff. 

That didn’t mean he had to like it. 

Storming up to the gates, he nodded at Severus as the Potion’s Master let him onto the grounds proper. 

“Anything of note I should know?”

Fascinatingly, the normally stoic man’s face shifted through several expressions of distaste and contempt before settling back to neutral. “Last night, your son and the Potter boy… _discovered_ a hidden animagus on the school grounds.”

“Oh?”

“It was Peter Pettigrew.”

“ _Oh?_ The same Pettigrew that Sirius Black supposedly killed?” Lucius asked.

“Yes. Unfortunately he got away before he could be questioned.” Severus said, waving the doors of the castle open. “What exactly are you here for, Lucius?”

“I want to have a _conversation_ with Draco.” he said, polite grin strained. 

Severus simply sighed and escorted him to an office. 

“The Headmaster is busy, I’m afraid- so you’ll have to check in with me.” the Deputy Headmistress called from behind her desk. Despite her being a Gryffindor, Lucius actually has quite a bit of respect for Minerva McGonagall. She reminded him of his wife- strong willed and strict. 

Lucius put on his most polite expression. “I’m here to see my son.”

“Most parents write letters.” Her tone was resigned as she stood to lead Lucius to the great hall. Students would be gathering for lunch in a few moments anyways.

The journey to the great hall was brief and one he had walked dozens of times even after he graduated. When he entered he couldn’t help the way his eyes gravitated towards the Slytherin table as if his son would be there. Except- and Lucius did a double take to be sure- Draco _was_ there.

Draco was squished between Harry Potter and a Ravenclaw girl he didn’t recognize. Must be from a lesser known family.

“Draco. We need to talk.”

His head whipped around at Lucius’ voice. The snake perched comfortably on his shoulders tightened her grip and raised her head towards Lucius as the start of a warning display.

With a whispered word to Harry, Draco stood from his seat with a quick and almost frantic motion. Certainly not the grace befitting the Malfoy family. The snake’s eyes didn’t leave Lucius as Draco hastily grabbed Lucius’ sleeve and led him from the hall.

For once he decided to let that slide. He didn’t trust the serpent wouldn’t take it the wrong way if he forced his hand away.

Once in the hallway Draco rounded on Lucius with a fire in his eyes reminiscent of Narcissa.

“What, _Dad,_ you couldn’t send a Howler like everyone else?” 

Lucius sniffed in disdain, ignoring the way the snake was sizing him up and refusing to make eye contact with it. “Of course not. Howlers are _uncouth._ ” 

“ _Uncouth!?_ What, and showing up at school is any better?” Lucius’ lips pressed into a thin line.

“When it pertains to the standing of the family.”

Draco's face fell. “This… this is about me being in Hufflepuff, isn't it?”

“I had to hear it from Lady _Greengrass!”_

“Holy shit, then maybe there's a reason I didn't write home!”

Lucius reared back at the language. “Now, Draco, I will not accept-”

“Ah, Lord Malfoy! I thought I saw you in the hall.” Harry Potter approached with a smile perfectly suited for a Slytherin.

 _Slytherin._ How was it that Harry Potter had been sorted into such a noble house while his son was cast aside to Hufflepuff? But, he had to remind himself, this wasn’t ‘Harry Potter Savior of the Light’. Before him stood ‘Harry Potter Future Dark Lord’ and it wouldn’t do for the Malfoy family to be in negative standing with him.

“Of course, Mr. Potter. Just checking in with my son.”

Draco’s eyes narrowed. “Just reminding me how horrible it is for the family legacy that I’m a Hufflepuff.” Lucius tensed and swore he saw a flicker of amusement in his son’s expression.

“Now, I’m sure there was some misunderstanding.” Lucius had never thought he would want to run from an eleven year-old until this moment. “Draco is my most _trusted_ friend. I can see how _loyal_ he and the others in his house are. Loyalty is certainly an important quality, wouldn’t you say, Lucius?”

_Oh, fuck._

It was a play. His son was probably meant for Slytherin but made this sacrifice for Harry. Hufflepuffs, for all their faults, were astoundingly loyal. If the New Dark Lord had an army of angry and loyal school kids…

Honestly, it wasn’t something Lucius would want to face.

Admitting he was wrong (and to children like his son at that) was a major blow to his pride and the pride of his house, but he was _wrong._ Draco Malfoy was the right hand of the Dark Lord.

Draco would bring pride to the Malfoy family yet.

Lucius was going to turn to leave when Harry's voice called, "By the way, Lord Malfoy." He realized how much of a relief it was to hear his title rather than 'Lucius'. "The matter of my godfather... It would be beneficial if he was released, wouldn't you say? A much better guardian than the muggles I was placed with."

With a deep breath Lucius returned a nod. "Quite."

\--

Several days after the event with Lucius, Harry was starting to seriously doubt his own decision making skills.

He was certain that, contrary to popular belief, Draco was the one holding the brain cell most of the time. Harry’s tendency to draw attention and fuck up generally supported the theory- not that his actions weren’t sometimes necessary, but they were certainly not ideal.

Example: him currently hissing at the sink in a bathroom.

He had waited until Draco was in class to attempt this (and really there wasn’t any harm in him skipping history) and made sure Basil was still comfortably perched on his shoulders.

“ _She probably won’t kill me, right?”_ He asked Basil as much as himself.

“ _I wouldn’t allow it.”_ Basil raised her head and opened her mouth in a threat display as if to prove her point.

Harry wasn’t about to correct her.

In his first life Harry had always loved the Chamber of Secrets. He would deny that it was his favorite movie because of the cool giant snake, but that would be a blatant lie. Wandering past what must be it’s latest shed, he was filled with a sense of awe.

The chamber itself was exactly what he expected. It was dark, cold, and isolated. All in all, it would be perfect for him and Draco once they began practicing more frowned upon spells.

True to canon there was a giant bust of who he assumed was Salazar Slytherin on the far end while statues of various snakes lined both walls. It wasn’t flooded which he was thankful for, but he took a moment to wonder if that was an embellishment or it would suddenly flood if he was down here too long.

Unwilling to put that to the test at the moment, Harry faced the statue of Slytherin and took a deep breath.

He couldn’t remember the exact wording but- “ _Something something Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts four.”_

Harry wasn’t sure whether he should be thrilled or embarrassed when the gateway slid open. All of those emotions vanished when the basilisk slowly emerged from the passageway. Her movements were sluggish and hesitant as if she had just woken from a thousand year hibernation. Which, she did with the exception of that one time a few decades ago.

 _“You’re not my master.”_ The basilisk hissed as she evaluated her surroundings.

 _“No, but I am his descendant.”_ Because if there was ever a time to take advantage of the relations in pureblood wizards it was now.

 _“And you speak.”_ Basil curled tighter around Harry’s shoulders as the giant serpent gradually circled them. “ _Who are you, little one?”_  

“ _Harry Potter. My companion is Basil.”_ At the basilisk’s pause he continued, “ _Named after the grand stories of you.”_ Harry hadn’t done much research about basilisks, but he decided to go with the common theme in media that any large lizard or reptile appreciates flattery.

He guessed he was right by the way the basilisk shuffled her body and moved her head closer. _“You are safe from my gaze, little speaker.”_ It took a conscious effort not to insult her for calling him small twice.

With a false sense of bravery he rose his eyes to meet hers. She hadn’t lied at least. A pale film seemed settled over her golden eyes.

_“Thank you, Mighty One.”_

The basilisk hissed in what he could only interpret as a laugh _. “I have a name. Salal.”_

Harry smiled and slowly extended a hand towards her. She accepted the gesture and pushed her nose into his palm. _“Pleasure to meet you, Salal.”_

\--

Now, normally, Draco completely ignored the drivel produced in the Daily Prophet. However, today’s headline was _everywhere_ , inescapable in its significance. 

 

**_Sirius Black: Seriously Innocent?_ **

_By Rita Skeeter_

_The infamous Sirius Black, accused of killing thirteen people with a single curse in 1981, might not be so guilty after all. With the appearance of the presumed dead Peter Pettigrew, new evidence has come to light, causing some to clamor for a retrial. The Noble and Most Ancient House of Malfoy in particular has had a heavy hand in pushing for a trial._

_Interestingly- Black was never given a trial in the first place. What has our Ministry been doing for its people if it can’t even uphold the tenets of justice? The Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, gave a statement to the press yesterday evening._

_“Of course Black is not innocent. My administration would never make a mistake so grave as to imprison an innocent man. And wasting time on a retrial will only tell us what we already know- Black is guilty.”_

_The Minister gave no mention of a lack of a trial in the first place._

_The public will see for sure at Black’s court date on December 29th._

 

The article was amusing if only for the chaos he could see it causing among the students.

Shockingly, the reactions weren’t even divided by house. Draco almost expected this to spark some new conflict between the Slytherins and Gryffindors. Then again, it seemed the house rivalries were all around kind of exaggerated in canon. There were various extremists like Ron Weasley or Pansy Parkinson and their respective friend groups, but overall it wasn’t as bad as he expected.

No one seemed too surprised when Harry and Draco moved between tables, and he noticed a few other switches as well. Usually between Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, but it was nowhere near as strict of a divide as Rowling described.

Today, though, the houses were fully unified in a sense of hesitation but frustration. No student, light or dark, would support a wizard being unjustly imprisoned. The right to a trial was no less important here than in the muggle world.

He couldn’t wait to see the hell unleashed when the full story was revealed.

Draco barely looked up as Harry slid into the seat next to him. Then he noticed how disheveled Harry looked. “You good, dude?”

Harry nodded, “Yeah, I’m good.” He sniffed and reached for some of the soup in front of him. “Just had a chat with Salal.”

“Salal?” For a moment Draco debated whether or not he really wanted to know. Probably not with Harry’s recent record.

“The basilisk.”

Draco choked on his own soup and wondered if this was to become a common occurrence. “You fucking _what?!”_ The curious glances of nearby Hufflepuffs were the only thing keeping his voice down. “Dude, what the fuck?”

Harry shrugged, "She’s grateful to be awake and free again. Promised not to attack students as long as I visit.” Draco was disgusted by how casually Harry was speaking.

“It was that easy? No near death escape for you?”

“She was happy I spoke parseltongue. I think she misses Slytherin.”

Draco buried his head in his hands. “ _God,_ you’re gonna kill me one of these days.”

“Pretty sure I literally already did.”


	7. Take 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We had some extra time this week, so please enjoy an extra long chapter clocking in at 10k! Honestly every time we read a comment we get motivated to write again, so thank you all so much <3<3

Harry was perfectly content to leave Hermione the task of officially starting their club. He had no doubt McGonagall would sigh and agree if they approached her, but the professor deserved a break once in a while.

Luckily, Hermione was as eager to start her ‘tutoring’ as she was about most academic topics, and McGonagall had approved before the week was up. They were allowed the use of a vacant classroom- which, really,  _ why  _ there were so many Harry would never know- and Harry was almost tempted to suggest the room of requirement instead, and whispered so to Draco. But, Draco had quietly explained that the room was a secret best kept. It could be a huge advantage and they weren’t sure how the future would play out.

The first DA meeting took place on a Monday night when there weren’t any astronomy classes to interfere. The turnout was actually higher than Harry had expected, meaning more than just Hermione had shown up.

Looking down to the paper in front of him, Harry signed his name right below Hermione and Draco’s. The attendance form was passed around to the others in the room- Neville and Su Li who Hermione invited the night before- and Hermione looked to Harry expectantly.

Harry turned to Draco who grinned. Let him deal with the teaching, it was his idea after all.

“Alright, so,” Draco stood from the desk he had claimed and strode to the front of the room with purpose. "I have some news to share."

While Harry took a deep breath and sent a silent prayer to whoever was listening, Hermione lit up with her quill at the ready to record Draco's every word.

Harry was incredibly grateful that with the extent to which they had impacted McGonagall the witch was fine with allowing them to hold lessons unsupervised. In her defense, Hermione had made the DA sound like harmless studying, not learning actual spells as Draco and Harry had planned.

"This should stay between the members of the DA, but it's not the worst secret to spill. I mean, it's not really a secret at all, but," He cut himself off there and looked to Harry, "I need you to demonstrate something."

With little hesitation Harry joined Draco in the front and waited for further instruction. "So, magic is something we all know, but until we master completely wordless spells we have no element of surprise. A skilled opponent will know where you are in your schooling and know how to counter a spell the moment the first syllable leaves you." Harry was truly, honestly, genuinely terrified of where this was going. "A spell is, basically, just a formation of magic and your intent. You have to know what a spell does and want the result in order for it to be successful."

Despite Draco spouting information that was most definitely not expanded upon until fourth year theory, Hermione and Su nodded in understanding. "So, really, that's the difficulty with wordless magic. You have to focus yourself enough on the result that you'll forget to like, do the spell or something. If we were able to change the words, though, it would give us just the right amount of stealth to shock an opponent and possibly be the difference between life and death."

Draco turned to fully face Harry when he finished his little speech. He pulled out his wand, pointed it at him, and Harry felt himself go through all five stages of grief at once before a spell was even cast. "Do I want to ask if you’ve attempted whatever this is before?"

"Probably not." Well, at least he was honest.

Hermione raised her hand, probably to ask about the theory or what exactly Draco intended to demonstrate, when Harry questioned, "Then what are you-"

" _ Yeet _ !" 

His wand went flying to the side in a textbook perfect expelliarmus. "Oh, my God." Despite the urge to do so, Harry wasn't sure if he could have blocked the spell in his shock.

Draco was grinning that unnerving smile and Harry finally snapped back to reality, bursting into laughter so hard he had to crouch. "Holy  _ shit _ , dude!"

Hermione, while obviously impressed, spoke up, "What's a yeet, though?" Ignoring the way Harry's laughter intensified she continued, "If we don't know the replacement word, how does that help our intent?"

Less of a mess than Harry, Draco debated the answer for a moment before attempting, "It's, like, an onomatopoeia." Even Hermione furrowed her brow at that explanation.

"A  _ what _ ?" Su questioned with a look halfway between annoyed and awestruck.

"You know, wow, bang, boom! Words that express sounds like that are called onomatopeias." There was a wave of understanding and Harry finally collected himself enough to stand next to Draco again.

"And yeet is... the sound of throwing something?" Harry snorted again at Neville's question and waved a hand in apology. He wasn’t sure if they could ever explain the full meaning of the word ‘yeet’ to kids who probably had never heard the word meme before. At least Draco managed to come up with some form of explanation.

"Yeah, pretty much. Who wants to try?"

By the end of their second lesson they had all managed to produce an expelliarmus to the new wording, and Harry was thrilled. It was a small advantage, but one nonetheless.

Sure, he and Draco planned on taking out Voldemort without any of the kids being dragged into it, but when had a plan ever gone right for them? Knowing that they were even the slightest bit more prepared in case of an emergency took a substantial weight off of his shoulders. With a glance to the beaming Draco, he knew he wasn't alone in the sentiment.

They had been given a quite literal second chance on life, and he would be damned if he didn't use it to protect the kids given no choice but to be pawns in a war.

The next day found Harry contemplating the same thoughts during his free time. Absently, he began wandering towards the greenhouse and entered when he realized there was no class in session. There was no rule against students being there outside of class, and since he was one of Sprout's favorites he wasn't too worried. He passed through the main classroom seating area and into the back where the plants were kept in a classic glass room.

Even as Rose, Harry had always loved greenhouses. Growing up on the edge of Epernay in Northern France she had always had the chance to explore vineyards and forests to her heart’s content. It always had a certain peace that resonated with her, and there hadn’t been a decent substitute in California. But, at Hogwarts, the greenhouses were just isolated enough to resemble a countryside overflowing with various herbs and flowers for him to investigate.

Once inside, Harry was content to take a seat on the ground near the back (by the tamer magical plants that  _ wouldn't _ kill him even though he was fairly safe in Greenhouse 1) and focus back in on his notes. He and Draco had spent nearly thirty pages of the journal planning their futures and different actions to take. Now, looking at what they intended to do, Harry began to put together a lesson plan for the future DA sessions.

An hour had passed when the door opened and his head snapped up to Professor Sprout. "Good evening." He greeted when she didn't immediately notice him.

"Oh!" She placed a hand to her heart, "Mister Potter! You startled me!"

"Sorry," Harry gave a gentle smile, "I was just working on some notes, I can leave if you like."

Sprout hurriedly placed down the books she was carrying and gestured for him to stay seated. “It’s quite alright! As long as you don’t mind me working around you, you’re welcome to stay.” Her eyes flicked to the plants surrounding him with an approving nod. “Just stay away from the plants we haven’t covered in class yet.”

Harry nodded, still packing his notes into his bag, “Alright. Do you need any help back here?” When she looked at him with a shock he hadn’t quite expected he continued, “I mean, it’s gotta be a lot for one teacher to handle while also having classes.” Was it not normal at Hogwarts for students to help? He knew that most teachers would have students do minor tasks during detention, but it was hard to believe there wasn’t a single student helping during free time. Maybe it was because he was a first year.

Sprout’s expression shifted into one he had only ever seen from his mother (the first one, of course). He hoped that meant he was forgiven for all the times she had caught him sneaking to and from the Hufflepuff common room.

“That would be lovely.” She thought for a moment and asked, “would you be willing to help prepare for the third year’s lesson? I won’t ask that you handle any of the plants quite yet.”

Harry grinned, swinging his bag over his shoulder and approaching the professor. “Of course.”

She quickly explained a basic task (sorting seeds by color variation as they produced different plants and couldn’t be touched by magic) and set him to work. “I heard about the club you and your friends started.”

He looked up from his work briefly, “Yeah, it was Hermione’s idea.”

Giving him a look like she didn’t expect any different, Sprout replied, “It’s a wonderful idea. You poor kids haven’t had a very decent trend of defence teachers lately, so it wouldn’t shock me if higher years asked to join.”

Somehow Harry almost forgot that the line of shitty teachers wasn’t only for him. Sprout was right in that the older years were probably desperate for a decent teacher as much as him. He would have to extend an invitation to them.

“I don’t know how much we could help them, but…” He left the ‘hopefully they’re smart enough to help each other’ unsaid. “It would be nice if the club expanded, I guess.”

With another warm smile and wink Sprout added, “You should think about adding Herbology lessons.”

Knowing that he was welcome in the greenhouses led to Harry spending most of his time without Draco in them. It was surprisingly fun to help Professor Sprout with the lesson planning and gave him his own ideas for how to structure the DA meetings.

During lunch the day before winter break Draco commented, “Dude, you’re stealing my head of house.”

Harry deadpanned and replied, “Have you seen mine?”

Draco winced and conceded the point.

A few minutes later McGonagall had approached and explained that Dumbledore wished to see him after lunch. It was the last thing he wanted to hear, and practically caused Draco to jump the man at the head table. He still hadn’t forgiven Dumbledore for the earlier conversation with Harry, and Harry felt a rush of pride every time it was brought up.

He made his way to the office with Draco who made his distaste of the headmaster known with every breath. “Maybe he’s just giving me the cloak early since I won’t be here over break?” Harry contemplated before they both suddenly turned to each other with wide eyes. “Oh, fuck. I won’t be here over break.”

A cheshire grin answered him, “He’s gonna be  _ pissed.”  _ Was the parting comment before they separated.

Pissed wasn’t the words Harry would use to describe the old man at the moment. To be fair, he was  _ good _ at hiding his emotions and hardly ever appeared as anything other than a gentle teacher.

The one thing that could visibly  _ annoy _ him, however, was his plans being ruined, and Harry not staying over winter break really annoyed him.

“You wanted to see me, sir?” Harry put on his best winning smile and sat across from the headmaster.

“Of course, how have exams been going for you?” Once again Harry was angered by the simple fact that no other student would be called to ask about  _ exams _ so casually.

“Great!” He replied while forcing his answer to remain genuine, “I think they all went well.” There was the slightest pause before Harry allowed his expression to slip slightly, “Other than potions…” Which wasn’t wrong because as much as he was able to perform the practical, he was  _ shit _ at the theoretical and purpose of ingredients. That was definitely more Draco’s expertise.

Dumbledore brightened slightly at that and Harry was baffled by how the news he wasn’t great at potions was  _ good _ . Because of Snape?

“Wonderful news!” A flash of wings caught Harry’s attention as a familiar phoenix touched down gently on the perch near Dumbledore’s desk. Its eyes were trained on Harry and Harry found himself suddenly transfixed by the phoenix. Dumbledore’s hand stretched to the side to pet Fawkes. “But I must raise my concern…” It took considerable effort for Harry to turn his focus back to Dumbledore. “I noticed you aren’t signed up to stay at the school over break.”

“No.”

An eyebrow raised, “Oh? I had thought that after our last discussion you would take the chance to remain here.”

Harry’s fists clenched into his robes. “Well, I guess I’m done exaggerating.”

He felt the sting of his nails through the fabric as Dumbledore had the audacity to smile. “That’s good to hear, my boy.” Ah, there was the ‘my boy’. Apparently Harry had admitted fault enough to earn Dumbledore’s ‘trust’ back. “But I must inquire about where you will be staying? I have not heard back from your relatives.”

“But I  _ am _ staying with my relatives, sir.” He honestly deserved an Oscar for keeping his calm and careful consideration of his wording. “My aunt and uncle probably didn’t reply because they don’t trust magic for communication.”

Pulling back his hand from the phoenix Dumbledore linked them together on the desk in front of him. “An understandable hesitation.” Dumbledore nodded sagely and Harry wondered if Draco would have already punched him at this point.

“If that’s all you need, sir?” Unfortunately, Harry was all too aware of the way Dumbledore watched as his eyes slid back to the phoenix who was still staring intently at Harry.

“Ah, he’s a phoenix, my boy. I would be shocked if you had seen one before.” For a moment Harry wondered if that was the man bragging or assuring Harry for his lack of knowledge. “His name is Fawkes.”

“Fawkes.” Harry breathed and the bird gave a trill that sent a rush down his spine. Extending a hand slowly Harry didn’t even look to the headmaster. “May I?”

“Of course.”

With a deep breath Harry reached fully across the desk and held his hand a few inches from the bird. Fawkes moved from his perch to the stack of papers near him with a delighted chirp and pressed his head into Harry’s hand without hesitation.

A wave of what he could only describe as ‘calm’ raced through him at the contact. The phoenix trilled a song that felt familiar to Harry in a way he couldn’t describe. Being near the bird was like sitting next to a campfire with roaring flames. It was igniting something he never knew was there.

Harry wasn’t sure if the reaction was normal or due to him being reincarnated, but he found himself never wanting to leave the phoenix’s presence.

But Dumbledore was here.

Here, and watching Harry with a look somewhere between suspicion and awe.

Harry drew back his hand, nearly returning it at the sad sound of the phoenix. “He’s gorgeous.”

Standing from his seat Harry grabbed his bag and moved backwards to the door. “Thank you, sir.” He didn’t give the still stunned Dumbledore a chance to answer.

Fleeing from the office so quickly may not be the wisest idea, but Harry could still feel the fire in his veins. Half-tempted to drag Draco back to the office to see if the reaction was the same, Harry moved towards his next class.

The main take-away for him was that Harry hadn’t lied. He  _ was  _ staying with relatives, because, really, all wizarding families were related and he knew there was a distant connection to the Malfoys somewhere. Not to mention he would be forcibly moving in with Sirius the instant he was freed and that was his godfather.

He was fidgety from the conversation all the way to dinner where he found himself practically pressing into Draco’s side after sitting down.

“You okay?” Draco whispered as he moved his arm to rest around Harry’s back.

“Have you ever met Fawkes?” He didn’t take any food but grabbed a fork only to twist it in his hands in an effort to settle his anxiety.

Draco’s brow furrowed. “No? Did Dumbledore do something at the meeting?”

Harry took in a shaky breath before replying, “No, he wasn’t that bad, but…” Finding a way to put what happened into words wasn’t easy. “I felt like I couldn’t look away from Fawkes and when I touched him… It was weird.” Harry pressed his lips into a thin line in the hesitation that followed. “Like touching fire but also  _ in  _ me and it was… calming? Is that a normal reaction to a phoenix?”

He knew he wasn’t explaining it well, but Draco hummed and answered, “Uh, can’t say I know but it doesn’t  _ sound  _ normal so, like, we can ask Hermione later?” Harry nodded and Draco laughed lightly, “Then again, when is  _ anything  _ normal for us?”

With a snort Harry leaned forward slightly to grab some food before pausing. He hadn’t realized just how quickly he had calmed down. His mouth opened slightly in confusion when he noticed the prominent heat radiating from Draco next to him.

It reminded him of Fawkes.

He  _ really  _ hoped Hermione had answers for them.

\--

The Malfoys, to no one’s shock, were all too eager to accept Harry into their home for the holidays. It was probably a mix of political standing and not wanting to upset him personally, but he wouldn’t complain either way.

Truthfully, he was excited to experience a full Yule celebration. Draco had described it briefly, but the concept was something he was interested in. He had seen different Christamas celebrations in France and with Ariel’s family, but it was nice to celebrate something new.

Especially since it was all rooted in ancient magic, and when didn’t the mention of magic excite Harry.

The break was going to be chaotic afterwards, so Harry was content to lay around the house with Draco and work through reading the entire Malfoy family library despite the eerie aura around it.

December 22nd was when the celebrations began, and it consisted of lighting the Yule log with the remains of last year’s. Lucius was the one leading the ceremony and spoke a few sentences that Harry was too distracted to understand, but he definitely felt the wave of magic rippling through the room when he was done.

There weren’t any other intense celebrations until the 25th other than typical family dinners being a bit more fancy, so he and Draco once again resumed their reading routine.

Gift giving wasn’t really a huge part of wizarding Yule, but apparently that was one thing the purebloods had accepted into their traditions. So, Harry was woken early by Draco on the 25th, and it reminded Harry a bit too much of the Christmases in their previous life.

Draco dragged Harry downstairs and to the main living room where Narcissa and Lucius were waiting with a mug in hand.

“Good morning, Draco.” Narcissa gave her son a gentle smile and turned to Harry with the slightest bit of bite in her tone. “Mister Potter.”

Harry grinned and sat beside Draco on the ground before the fireplace where a few packages were. Draco had explained that he had always gotten away with sitting on the floor to hand out gifts mostly because of the restrictions of wizarding gifts. It wasn’t smart to use magic on a gift when you didn’t know how it would react.

Draco had just passed Lucius and Narcissa their respective gifts when he read the next one and barked out a laugh. Tossing the box at Harry he elaborated, “From Dumbledore.”

Scrambling to catch the gift, Harry pointedly ignored the way the two elder Malfoy’s flinched. “I can’t believe he still sent it.”

An unfamiliar yet pleasant aura was surrounding the box, and Harry carefully opened it while keeping the wrapping intact. A habit Ariel had always hated Rose for.

The invisibility cloak lay within, and Harry was quick to scoop the silvery fabric into his arms. A sensation of calm filled him, not unlike the contact with Fawkes. But where Fawkes and Draco were the flames of the sun wrapped into a calming breeze, this was cool and vibrant; the feeling of taking a plunge into a lake on a hot day.

Harry let out a sigh and wrapped the cloak around his shoulders, unwilling to part with the sensation quite yet. Draco’s eyes were trained on the cloak, and Harry silently promised to give it to him later.

Lucius and Narcissa looked stunned, but when didn’t they lately. “It used to be my father’s.” He explained. That only drew a more critical stare, but that was fine.

The look on Lucius’ face when he unwrapped the single sickle and ballpoint pen from Harry and Draco was so worth it. “They’re remarkably useful.” Harry commented when Lucius seemed as if he would rather eat the pen than willingly use it.

Harry and Draco continued to sort through the gifts, appreciating the various small gifts they received from the friends they had made at Hogwarts. They would be exchanging gifts with Hermione in a few days, but even without they were surprised at how many had sent gifts. Even Professor Sprout had gifted Harry and Draco each a book on herbology not covered in the Hogwarts curriculum.

They were through the gifts and about to move for breakfast when Narcissa frowned, “Draco, didn’t you get anything for Harry?”

The two froze. “I  _ knew  _ we forgot something!” Draco complained while falling back into his seating position. “We’re so dumb!”

Harry laughed and tried, “Well, you did get me that pair of shoes from Tonks.”

“And you got me that invisibility cloak a few months ago.”

With a shrug, Harry turned to Narcissa, “It’s okay, really, we give each other enough gifts outside of holidays.”

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion, and Harry decided he really didn’t want to decode that look right now.

—

The annual Malfoy ball took place the day after Christmas every year. It was another tradition Draco would do his best to avoid but Harry was looking forward to. He was a Slytherin, after all, and thrived when he was able to use complicated political talk to confuse people.

He would agree with Draco on the dress code, however. Narcissa was quite strict in what she would allow, and had prepared outfits for them while they were still in school. They were restricting, uncomfortable, and  _ boring. _

Harry might not share Dracos particular brand of fashion sense, but even he agreed that plain black robes were incredibly dull.

By some mercy, the actual party was bound to be excited when he had overheard a few of the attendees. He had been hoping to strike fear into a room full of death eaters.

The event began at seven, and he and Draco were dressed and in the ballroom five minutes prior as Narcissa requested. Vibrant rainbow earrings that Draco had chosen for the night were pointedly ignored by the matriarch.

Harry wondered how often that argument had occurred.

Guests arrived one after another for the first half-hour, and Draco was required to greet them with Lucius and Narcissa as a member of the Malfoy family. Harry, as a guest of the family and temporary resident, was dragged into the practice alongside him.

The only redeeming factor of this was the surprise in people’s eyes when they saw him, and the fear that followed when Basil shifted from her place around his neck. He almost felt bad, realizing that the last time they had been exposed to a Slytherin with a snake they had also been expecting a cruciatus at any moment.

Once enough time had passed the boys were released from their duty to socialize, and they immediately distanced themselves from Narcissa before she decided to drag them back.

They gravitated towards the other Hogwarts students (Slytherins) first, knowing it would be expected of them even if they were looking forward to finally talking to more adults.

“Didn’t expect to see you here, Harry.” Blaise greeted.

“Really?” Harry rolled his eyes. “Because I’m the prime example of a light wizard?”

Blaise grinned. “Obviously! We all know you’re supposed to be in Gryffindor.” It was one of Blaise’s favorite banters, and the reality of it struck Harry every time.

Draco piped up, “Please, as if Harry could be anything other than a Slytherin.” Blaise’s eyes drifted to Basil and Draco added, “I didn’t mean the snake.”

“Trust us, we’ve seen enough to know just how well Harry fits in.” Pansy muttered while crossing her arms. “He’s insufferable!”

A fourth year beside them that Draco didn’t know practically whined, “Please don’t remind me. I choose to spend my time  _ avoiding  _ mention of Potter.”

Harry’s shit-eating grin was just a little disturbing and the fourth year turned to leave the conversation quickly.

“What have you been doing all semester?” Draco questioned, eyeing the reactions with awe.

“Me?” Harry scoffed, “Hufflepuffs are  _ terrified  _ of you, dude.”

Pansy rolled her eyes, “I’m pretty sure most of the school is terrified of you two. I mean, aside from just being yourselves, you also killed a troll and discovered an undercover animagus.”

“Huh.” Harry nodded, “I mean, yeah, I get it.”

With a laugh Blaise added, “Honestly, I’m just glad you’re okay with me. I’d hate to be on your bad side.”

Harry was about to respond when a throat cleared behind them. He turned to see a man he didn’t recognize, and took a moment to curse the fact that the people around him didn’t fully resemble their movie counterparts.

The guy was rugged for lack of a better word, with long hair and a beard that felt really out of place. “You’re Potter?” His voice was almost a growl, animalistic.

Something clicked for Harry, “You’re Greyback?” He returned.

The werewolf grinned in a distinctly feral way. “There are rumors about you, kid.” There was something predatory in his gaze, and Harry remembered reading that Fenrir had turned dozens of kids.

“So? Why would they interest me?” He was acutely aware of the terror building in the kids behind him, and Blaise grabbed the back of his robe, probably trying to tell him to knock it off.

Greyback’s arrogant smirk shifted into a frown, “Shouldn’t be trying to fill shoes you can’t. Something might happen.” A golden flash in his eyes let Harry know he wasn’t kidding.

He hissed absently, not even intending for it to be a command, but Basil sensed his irritation. She stretched herself up from Harry’s neck, showing her mouth coloration and hissing a warning.

Harry, despite his faults, wasn’t dumb when it came to social convention. Greyback was threatening him, yes, but also calling his bluff. Telling him to  _ prove  _ that he deserved to be called the next Dark Lord. “I’d suggest you not make idle threats.”

“Why not?” Greyback stepped closer, showing off fangs meant to intimidate. “Almost a full moon, you know.”

Harry caught a glimpse of Lucius noticing the commotion and hastily making his way towards them. That was fine, but- Harry couldn’t back down. If he let Lucius solve this for him the death eaters would never respect him. He didn’t care about their personal respect, but it always helped to have an opponent less inclined to kill you. He opened his mouth to reply-

Greyback fell to one knee with a grunt as a quiet “crucio” echoed in the suddenly silent room.

Draco was beside him, arm raised and wand pointed towards the werewolf, face blank. The seconds seemed to stretch before Harry raised a hand and hissed in parseltongue. “ _ Draco, enough.” _

The spell cut off in an instant. Greyback took a moment before staggering to his feet, less impacted by the spell than a normal wizard. Draco’s arm was shaking as he lowered it to his side, knuckles white from the grip on his wand. Lucius looked like he was torn between intense pride and utter terror for his son’s life. Blaise’s hand that was still curled in his robes tightened. Most of other wizards, death eaters the lot of ‘em, just looked horrified.

Greyback laughed.

“I like this one!” He declared. The room seemed to breathe a collective sigh of relief when they weren’t brutally mauled.

Blaise pulled on the robes and scolded, voice shaking, “Fucking hell, Potter, control your damn attack badger!”

Harry held back a sharp comment when Greyback moved between him and Draco, clasping a hand on their shoulders. “Your little badger’s got claws, young one. Let me know when you need a  _ wolf.”  _ Then Greyback was gone, and Harry was left with the knowledge that his plan to gradually fuck up Voldemort’s ranks was going  _ shockingly  _ well.

Turning back to his friends, he realized the toll that exchange probably had on the poor kids. They were  _ terrified  _ of that werewolf. “Sorry, but at least he’s gone now?” Harry laughed quietly, and frowned when the action caused Pansy to go a shade paler. “You okay, Pansy?”

She squeaked, taking a step away from him and hiding most of her body behind Blaise. Blaise, who was also eyeing him and Draco warily.

“I don’t think the werewolf’s the issue, mate.” Blaise managed.

“What?”

Sometimes it was hard; having such a disconnect between their mental age and physical. Rose was an adult woman who had lived and  _ died.  _ Harry was an eleven year-old who just watched his friend perform the cruciatus without hesitation, who seemingly stopped at his command. It wasn’t hard for the two of them to slip into a mindset that’s a little cruel, a little scary. But everyone else didn’t see two thirty year-olds defending each other and some students. They saw one of those students performing an unforgivable with ease and the other talking shit to the most feared werewolf of their time.

Harry looked around the room, and was suddenly aware that they weren’t staring in fear of the werewolf. The death eaters were afraid of  _ them _ .

Instantly the eyes on him seemed to weigh Harry down, and he found comfort in the way Basil settled once more around his neck, if a bit tighter than normal to remind him of her presence.

Lucius finally approached, looking happier than Harry thought was possible for the man, a terrible sort of glee, and Harry just hoped he would last the night without another incident.

Which, contrary to the expectations of most, they managed. Harry was perfectly polite, utilizing every bit of his Slytherin tendencies and silver-tongue to assure he was seen in a positive light.

He had taken great pride in the whispers erupting around the room when Draco had joined Harry in conversation directly at his side. It had been made perfectly clear that they were allies of some sort, but he could imagine the thoughts at first. The way Draco defended him probably led to the assumption that Draco held a role to him similar to Lucius and the Dark Lord.

His right hand. But Draco and Harry had read on pureblood customs, and if that were true Draco would remain a single step behind Harry at all times. It was one of those dumb traditions Harry wished didn’t exist, but it made everything clear when Draco stood by his side as his equal.

Certainly didn’t help when Basil decided Harry wasn’t in need of comfort anymore and made her way to Draco’s shoulders. The Malfoy had visibly relaxed, and the room drew in a sharp breath of realization.

Harry may be the next Dark Lord, but he certainly wasn’t alone.

\--

They didn’t retreat to Draco’s room until almost midnight, and as soon as the door closed Draco found himself dealing with an armful of Harry. “You’re an idiot, what the  _ fuck  _ is wrong with you? I can’t believe you- but… are you okay?”

Draco didn’t know how to reply, so he contented himself with just returning Harry’s embrace for a moment. Eventually, he replied, “I’m fine. I just… he was going to  _ attack  _ you and I know you and Basil can defend yourselves, but it would ruin any illusion of you being a light wizard to the greater public and I didn’t know another spell to stop him because in canon he took like  _ four stunners to the chest  _ so-”

He cut off his rambling. It… he expected worse when casting a spell like that. Hell, he hadn’t even expected it to  _ work.  _ From what he knew the cruciatus required a lot more hatred and intent than he had offered.

It hadn’t even bothered him to see Greyback collapse in pain.

Not if it meant keeping Harry safe.

Harry drew back, seeming to remember something. “I forgot, earlier,” He began, going to his trunk and shuffling through it for a moment. “But I saw you stare at it and-” With a flourish he pulled out a bundle of silver material.

Passing it to Draco, Harry leaned back on his heels to observe. Draco wasn’t sure why, until he came in contact with the cloak. It was the same sensation he got from Harry when panicked.

A cool sort of comfort that completely enveloped him and made him feel  _ safe. _

“You looked at the cloak the same way I looked at Fawkes.”

Draco’s head snapped up. “It’s a Hallow, do you think that’s why? Death and rebirth and all that?” When Harry stayed silent Draco continued, “I don’t know how to describe it, but it’s definitely not what you said. This is… cold.” Harry’s eyes were thoughtful at this. “It feels like you.”

A rush of air left him and Harry fell back to fully sit on the floor. “Shit.” Draco raised a brow, not even realizing the way he pulled the fabric closer to himself. “To me, you feel like a phoenix.”

Draco snorted, choosing not to think about just what this could mean in a serious light. “What, it’s some life and death shit? We symbolize the two?”

There was a long pause during which they both came to a rather harsh realization. “Doesn’t…” Draco bit his lip. “Doesn’t canon Harry become the master of death?”

Harry frowned, eyeing the cloak with something similar to distrust. “That shouldn’t matter.  _ I’m _ not master of death, and that doesn't explain why you feel like Fawkes to me.”

He didn’t have a response for that. The implications of this information weighed on both of them, and if they fell asleep with the cloak partially wrapped around them, there was no one to judge.

\--

The morning of the 27th, Hermione woke up bright and early and made sure her gifts were perfectly wrapped and ready to go. Bursting with nervous energy, she spent a solid fifteen minutes tidying her room before going downstairs and doing the same to the living room. What was the standard procedure for having friends over at her house? She’d never had friends over before! She’d never had  _ friends  _ before! 

Suddenly, all too quickly, the doorbell was ringing and Hermione was thanking her lucky stars that both her parents were at work and weren’t here to witness her… very eccentric friends. She opened the door, expecting to see wizarding robes and got ready to quickly usher them inside when she saw what they were actually wearing. 

Harry she understood, he was raised by his muggle family, but Draco? He looked like he would blend right in at her old school, wearing a pair of blue jeans and a rather nice pale pink knit sweater. The only wild parts of his outfit were the huge dangling earrings and the string of christmas garland he was wearing as a necklace. Harry smiled winningly, and waved, a gift bag in his hand. 

Realizing she was staring, a little dumbstruck, she ushered them inside, watching as they politely kicked snow off their boots before stepping through the door. 

“ _ Merry Christmas _ !” Draco crowed, and Hermione returned his quick hug, wondering if Harry coached him on the proper greeting for Christmas as opposed to Yule. 

“How was your holiday, ‘Mione?” Harry asked while offering her the gift bag.

Hermione grinned, “Good! My grandparents flew in from overseas so it was nice to see them again.” She accepted the bag and moved to the living room to set it down. “How about you? The party was yesterday, right?” She sat on a chair near the fireplace while Draco and Harry sat beside each other on the couch.

Draco snorted and Harry grinned, “Yeah, about that…”

They spent the next half-hour explaining the events of the night to Hermione who watched them with increasing concern. When the cruciatus was mentioned, she froze. “You cast it?” Her voice was quiet, and she wasn’t sure if she had ever been so soft-spoken.

“I didn’t know how else to defend Harry.” Draco admitted honestly. “Greyback he- he wouldn’t be affected by a stunner or some silly jinx.”

Hermione noticed the way Harry leaned into Draco, and the way he seemed to calm just from Harry’s presence. “There wasn’t really a choice other than Basil attacking.”

It was something she hadn’t expected, but she wasn’t sure if she was really mad. Definitely annoyed that they endangered themselves, but…

Hermione had joined the wizarding world and been told there was a reason they were unforgivables. That she was never to cast them or risk immediate escort to Azkaban. It was a spell only dark wizards would cast.

But Hermione hadn’t even been told why dark magic was so bad. Wasn’t it the intent of magic? Harry had used a first year levitating charm to kill a mountain troll. There was no way that a spell itself could be dark. A book she had read even theorized that the killing curse had originally been intended as a spell for euthanization. Besides. They may have killed a troll, but they did so to  _ save her _ . 

“Well, wouldn’t want Basil to r _ hiss _ k getting hurt.”

Harry let out a sigh of relief. “Plus, it led to Greyback basically offering me his loyalty.”

“What.”

“Yeah, ‘let me know when you need a wolf’ sounds pretty much like he’d back me up.” Hermione was floored by the blasé way he spoke.

“Why would he even offer that to a first year?!”

Draco laughed again, propping his feet up on Hermione’s living room table. “Because everyone thinks Harry’s the next Dark Lord since he can speak to snakes and shit.”

Hermione’s eyes widened even as she shoved Draco’s feet back to the floor. That was interesting, and she would definitely be grilling them for information later, but she wasn’t sure she could handle a full political talk after hearing about what the two had done the previous night.

“Anyways, here.” She reached to her side to grab the two wrapped gifts before shoving them at Harry and Draco, desperate for a change in subject.

Deciding to go first, Draco ripped his open and held up the neon pink yarn in awe. “Did you  _ make  _ this?” he asked, eyeing the scarf.

“Yeah, Mom taught me how to knit last year.” Hermione smiled at Draco’s response.

“This is incredible! Thanks, ‘Mione!” Draco immediately donned the scarf with a grin. She held back a comment about pairing a neon pink scarf with a pale pink sweater.

Harry followed and opened his own to reveal another piece of knitting. “Oh, sweet.” He whispered, feeling the warming charms radiating from the green and black scarf. “I  _ love this. _ ”

“It’s for Basil, too. I figured she must get cold, especially when you’re in the dungeons.” Harry sent a thankful smile and slipped the scarf over his head. Basil re-adjusted to settle herself completely below the fabric with a hiss.

Hermione was glad that Harry’s scarf at least matched his grey sweater.

“Basil likes it too.”

Hermione beamed as Harry motioned for her to grab the bag she had brought. “Mine’s on the top in the box. Just… be careful and don’t touch it without gloves.”

Giving him a suspicious look, Hermione grabbed the box and cautiously unwrapped it. She wasn’t sure how to react. “A… fang? Claw?” She leaned closer to the box for inspection. “What is this?”

Harry’s shit-eating grin returned full force as he answered, “A basilisk fang.”

Hermione dropped the box to the floor. “ _ What?” _

“Don’t worry! I got it from a living basilisk. She sheds them sometimes so it wasn’t like she was hurt at all.”

“You think  _ that’s  _ my concern with-  _ you got it from what?!”  _

Harry’s expression grew wary with her change in tone.  “Salal. She’s friendly, really. I promise I wasn’t in any danger while talking to her.” His tone was pleading, and Hermione forced herself to take a deep breath.

“It’s fine… I… wasn’t expecting it, that’s all.” She had heard about fangs though, and the fact that would keep producing venom until the fang was destroyed. Since basilisk venom was created in their fangs and not venom glands, the snakes would occasionally shed the teeth like a shark. Fascinating, really.

“I just… why a fang?”

“Extremely useful in a lot of potions and practically impossible to find undamaged.” Harry explained, “Plus, really good for killing horcruxes.”

“Killing what?” Hermione questioned while Draco kicked Harry’s leg.

“Just to keep you safe.” Harry nodded and motioned back towards the bag that still held her gift from Draco. “It’ll come in handy later, just don’t worry about it quite yet.”

Swallowing her urge to question why this was her gift and why it  _ didn’t make any sense,  _ Hermione reached back into the bag to pull out what looked to be some paper and official forms.

Scanning them, she was as confused as ever, which was starting to get really annoying. Apple? “Why… why did you get me stock for some American tech company?” Oh, shoot, she didn’t mean to sound ungrateful. Thankfully, Draco just laughed and shook his head, winking. That. That didn’t answer anything. Nothing they say  _ ever _ answers anything.

Hermione was tired of not understanding her own friends. She was tired of not getting answers to basic questions and feeling like she was missing something when they sent each other looks over her shoulder.

She thought back to her notebook, furiously filled with rambling notes on their oddities, as if by pressing the pen hard enough she would uncover the mystery surrounding the two boys. 

She thought back to the two completely crazy, wild, impossible conclusions she reached after months of unexplainable actions. Odd, advanced knowledge, strange behaviors, weird slang, mentions of movies she’s never heard of, their maturity at times, the strange assurance of things that haven’t happened yet...

Interrupting Draco’s passionate speech about green energy sources of all things, Hermione blurted out what had been plaguing her for weeks. 

“You’re either two doppelgängers pretending to be Harry and Draco through polyjuice, or you’re from the future.” 

Draco cut off his sentence with a squeak, but it was Harry that Hermione was watching. His green eyes were piercing as they stared at her, seemingly contemplating something. Hermione’s never been afraid around them before, but now she felt uneasy. 

Oh, God. What if she was right. What if these were two death eaters disguised as her friends, and the  _ real  _ Harry and Draco were kidnapped and being tortured and now they were going to kill her for finding out-

“Wow. How can you be so wrong yet so right?” Harry’s voice cut through her panic like a knife. 

She breathed out a sigh, refusing to think about how afraid she had been of  _ Harry _ just a few moments ago. Of course they weren’t doppelgängers. She was just overreacting, like always- 

“But, no, we’re actually two grown women from an alternate reality 2019 who died and got reincarnated as wizards. Good guess though.” Harry said, voice flat.

What.

She watched, detached, as Draco punched Harry’s arm, face twisted in panic. 

“You can’t just drop it on her like that! That was cruel!” Here Draco gestured towards her wildly before continuing, “Look at her face! You broke her!” 

Hermione was, indeed, doing a hard mental reboot. Because, as much as it pained her to admit it, it made  _ so much sense _ . While at the same time making absolutely  _ no sense at all _ .

“We were gonna tell her anyways.” Harry argued, waving a hand dismissively.

Draco groaned, “Yeah, gradually! With care! That’s not something you just drop on a kid!”

That seemed to snap Hermione out of it, and her logic finally made a reappearance. “If I’m just a kid, why would you bother telling me?”

Harry turned to her, “You’re the brightest witch of our age, Hermione,” Hermione flinched before he finished, “and a really good friend to both of us.”

Hermione’s eyes narrowed. “Prove it.”

Draco waved a hand absently. “Prove what? That we’re your friends or that we reincarnated?” 

Hermione narrowed her eyes even further. “Both.” 

Draco took a deep breath before he started  _ spewing  _ information, too fast and without hesitation to be making it up- "I can speak French and Spanish. Sirius black is a secret dog animagus. Voldemort’s real name is Tom Riddle. Dumbledore was friends with Gellert Grindelwald and probably loved him. I could tell you the next couple American Presidents. Dumbledore has the elder wand, yknow, the one from legend. The whomping willow can be stunned by pressing a knot on its side. There-" 

" _ Okay I get it!” _ Hermione had to take a moment to process. Everything she ever knew was being flipped on its head. Harry and Draco politely waited while she got herself under control.

Even a reincarnation may not mean knowing the things they did. “Who were you before that you know these personal things about our generation?” Hermione asked after a moment.

This time it was Harry who gave a seemingly flippant answer. “We read the events of this world in a popular book series. It followed the life of Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, and his life at Hogwarts and eventual defeat of Lord Voldemort.” 

_ Excuse me _ . 

Ignoring the mention of the dark lord’s defeat, she instead had a mini crisis about the fact that  _ her life was apparently from a story.  _ What was existence? Was she a thinking and feeling person? Or was she words on a page?  _ What the fuck _ . 

“-ione. Hermione.  _ Hermione.”  _

Oh. She was hyperventilating. 

Hermione closed her eyes and counted to ten. No, she was fine. Harry and Draco were here and from a different reality, but she was  _ fine.  _ The fact that they had probably changed the story meant she had  _ also  _ made her own decisions. There may be a story about her, but she was  _ not that story. _

“I’m sorry.” She whispered, wincing at how hoarse her voice was. Hermione didn’t want to break down in front of them, especially not when they decided to trust her with information like this.

Harry gave a smile gentle enough to remind her of her mother and- oh, fuck. They had  _ families  _ even before here?

Wiping the tears she hadn’t noticed, Harry answered, “It’s okay, Hermione. It’s not something most people could even handle hearing. You’re incredibly brave.” She was certain it would always be weird to hear that tone from Harry’s body.

“Did…” She needed to not think about being unable to control her life. “Are you Harry but with memories? Or did you replace an infant Harry Potter?”

This time it appeared it was Harry’s turn to be confused. “You know, that’s a good question.”

\--

The Malfoy Manor held a constricting air on the best of days, but in the days leading up to Sirius’ trial, the mood was downright choking. Harry wondered how Draco could stand the place. No amount of sparkling decorations and fancy baubles could hide the dark aura the manor gave off, especially near the library. Sinking down further into a cushion, he debated taking his book to a different room.

Draco had retreated into the dungeons for some kind of potion work Harry wouldn’t even begin to pretend to understand, and Harry realized he had just been gradually shifting through the manor without Draco there to overwhelm whatever cursed object happened to be nearby.

“Ah, there you are, Mister Potter. I was hoping to have a quick word with you.” 

Harry turned to see Narcissa standing in the doorway, a blank expression on her face. 

“As I’ve said, please, call me Harry.”

“Call me Narcissa, then.” she replied. Harry had offered her his first name on multiple occasions over the past few days, but this was the first she had returned the favor. He found himself paying far closer attention to what she was about to say, closing his book and setting it at his side.

“I understand you are spending a majority of your time with my son.”

“Yes?” Oh, God, was this a marriage talk?

“What are your intentions?”

Oh, fuck, this was  _ totally  _ a marriage talk. Not for the first time Harry wished for the ability to Google some solution to this. Though, when he thought about it, ‘how to convince your best friend's mom that you were practically sisters in your previous life’ wouldn’t get many results. 

“Draco is my best friend. My equal.” He answered honestly, doing his best to keep an innocent yet confused expression.

Narcissa hesitated a moment at that, seeming to steady her voice and nerves before addressing him. “I will say only this. I do not care if my husband believes you to be the next Dark Lord. If you hurt our- If you hurt  _ my  _ son, I will do everything in my power to  _ destroy you. _ ” 

Holy shit. Not a marriage talk. Got it.

Harry let his lips curl into a slow and steady cheshire’s grin, and said, “How can you be so sure that I’m mortal? Not even Voldemort’s best efforts could kill me.” Harry revelled in her subtle flinch, before continuing, “Don’t worry, Narcissa. Draco is one of mine. And I take care of my own.” 

Narcissa let out a shaky breath before nodding once and promptly fleeing her own library, back straight. 

It was a troubling confrontation, honestly. He had expected Narcissa to have an actual marriage talk at some point with how close he and Draco always were, but for her to threaten him? He had a newfound respect for the Malfoy matriarch.

Harry took a few minutes to focus back on the book he had set aside. Narcissa had made him think. He hadn’t lied when he said that he would take care of Draco. Harry would do anything to protect him, but it was Draco who had full on cursed a werewolf for threatening Harry.

They would have each others backs even without Narcissa’s intervention, but Harry was determined to make sure Draco never needed to make himself the target again.

\--

Harry was worried for Sirius.

Despite the knowledge that Sirius was innocent, that he had the Malfoy name backing him, there was no guarantee when political corruption was a factor and the current minister has a vested interest in keeping his name clean. 

All of his fears made their presence known the day of the trial. 

Waking up bright and early, Harry and Draco dressed in their most formal robes, Draco’s sporting the Malfoy crest. Harry was touched to notice that Draco was taking this so seriously that he forwent the Doc Martens. 

“You okay?”

Harry could always count on Draco to read his moods better than anyone else. 

“I’ll be fine when Sirius is free.” he replied, as they made their way down to the foyer. Harry smiled softly when Draco reached over to fix his braid and to make sure his scar was on display before they left. 

The ministry building was… ostentatious and gaudy, and the statue taking up a large part of the entrance hall was sickening. Harry already fucking hated the place. The Malfoy’s plus Harry made their way to level ten, and into the courtroom, passing the flashing crowds of reporters clamoring for news. Surprisingly, or perhaps unsurprisingly, Sirius’ trial was the biggest scandal in recent memory. All of wizarding Britain wanted to know the outcome. 

That being said, since this was such a high profile case, the entire Wizengamot was present. Dumbledore, acting as Chief Warlock, took one look at Harry with the Malfoy’s and grimaced. Harry ignored him and looked to the center of the room. Here he got his first proper look at his godfather. He looked- well he looked like shit. Harry supposed that years in Azkaban would do that to you. 

Against all of Harry’s expectations, the trial was surprisingly short. As Rose, she had once sat Jury duty. This was in no way comparable. Sirius was asked if he would answer questions under veritaserum. His voice was quiet and husky as he gave an affirmative, reminding Harry of his grandfather from a previous life that had been constantly smoking. Then it was administered, and all that was left were the questions. As he answered them, he seemed to grow more and more passionate.

“Did you cast the spell that blew up the street corner of Goswell and Percival?”

“No.”

“Did you attempt to kill Peter Pettigrew?” 

“Yes.”

The witch asking the questions frowned at this one, “Why?” 

Here Sirius leaned forward, voice brittle yet full of rage.

“Because that fucking  _ rat _ betrayed James and Lily!” 

At those words the entire room burst into sound. Harry startled when Draco elbowed his side, and he remembered to look shocked and confused and like he  _ didn’t  _ already know that. 

Slowly but surely the room calmed back down and the full story was told in pieces- the fidelus, the switching of the secret keeper, Pettigrew’s betrayal. 

Sure enough, Sirius was decided  _ not guilty.  _

The wizard acting as judge- who Harry couldn’t bother to remember the name of- looked at Sirius with pity and said, “Mister Black, I’d suggest having someone at St. Mungos look you over, and avoiding the public eye for a few days until the knowledge of your innocence is widely known. I’d also like to extend an apology on behalf of my peers in the judiciary system. This establishment failed you, profoundly.” He then spoke to the wider audience, “This case is closed.” 

Harry scrambled to his feet immediately and yelled down to his godfather, his voice carrying even over the roars of the crowd.

“Sirius!”

Sirius looked up, eyes widening when he made eye contact with Harry. For a moment Harry wondered if Sirius thought he was seeing his friend with longer hair and not his godson. The thought pained him in a way he didn’t expect, and he pushed it down before grinning and flashing a thumbs up. Oh, it  _ hurt _ how fragile his godfather’s expression was. 

\--

Needless to say, Fudge resigned after the overwhelming public outrage against him. Nothing pits the entire wizarding community against you quite like falsely imprisoning an innocent man. The purebloods were in uproar because Sirius was a Black, no matter how Gryffindor, and everyone else was because he had been friends with the Potters.

Reading the newspaper over breakfast, Draco was proud to see Amelia Bones amongst the current candidates for Minister. He hoped she won the election- she seemed the most capable and qualified for the job. Plus, he was friends with Susan Bones. Of course he wanted her aunt to be minister. It wasn’t even entirely for selfish gain.

That day, Harry was supposed to leave for the rest of the break. Which… honestly scared Draco. It wasn’t as if he hadn't gone eleven years without Harry, but he was scared to let him out of his sight for even a moment with that idiots tendency to get into trouble.

But, as much as Draco hated to admit it, Harry was right in going with Sirius. Sirius would need some form of support for recovery, and Harry was quite honestly his only family left. He also knew just how much Sirius meant to Harry despite the fact that they had never met before.

There had been a brief discussion after the trial, but all that could be established was Harry joining him at Grimmauld Place the following morning since Sirius was practically dragged to St. Mungos for an evaluation.

Harry had been practically shaking the entire night with a mix of nerves and excitement. “What if he hates me?” and “What if  _ I  _ fuck this up?” had been constant questions.

Draco was sure it was hard for Harry, wanting this trusted guardian figure but also knowing that they’re practically the same age.

They had agreed to tell Sirius, eventually. It would have to wait until he had recovered and could handle the information, but it wasn’t something they could keep from him.

Narcissa pretended to look the other way because of Lucius’ insistence, and Lucius only ever allowed them to do as they pleased because of Harry. He was terrified of pissing off the Dark Lord by doing something dumb like setting a curfew, so had allowed whatever.

But Sirius didn’t fear Harry, and would no doubt be fiercely protective. They wouldn’t be able to sneak out or have their secret planning sessions with Sirius hovering.

So they agreed he had to know.

Telling Hermione had gone well, but they were terrified of telling Sirius, and decided to put it off as long as possible.

Harry soon came practically falling down the stairs and into the dining room where the rest of the Malfoy family was just finishing breakfast.

Greetings were exchanged (barely understandable on Harry’s part) and Harry immediately pulled his chair closer to Draco’s. He practically shared a chair with Draco while helping himself to breakfast, and Draco allowed it after the previous day.

They had realized just how much they could affect each other with words or contact. Harry seemed to reign in Draco’s more impulsive decisions, and Draco was an incredible grounding source for Harry. It was almost as if they were linked.

He noticed a hint of silver tucked under Harry’s sweater, and realized he was wearing it as a kind of shirt underneath for the comfort it provided. Really, he wondered if he should be concerned by how calm Harry felt once wrapped in an object of death.

“The floo is open, so you may take your leave at any time.” Harry nodded his thanks to Lucius. He knew that Sirius was expecting him around noon, but his godfather had also mentioned that the floo would be open to Malfoy Manor all day in case something happened.

After breakfast, Harry made sure to pull Draco upstairs for a goodbye as he went to grab his things. Draco followed close behind as they made their way back to his room. 

“You’ll be fine.” Draco lightly tapped Harry on the shoulder with his knuckles. It thankfully did the job of loosening the tension he could see held there. 

“What if I’m too Slytherin for him? What if I-“ 

Draco cut Harry off with a hug. “I doubt he’ll care, Harry. And if he does,” Draco leaned back to look him in the eyes, “you’ll always have me, yeah?” 

Harry nodded with far too many emotions in his eyes, and reached to grab his trunk. They slowly made their way to the parlor room with the fireplace connected to the floo. 

“I’ll see you at school. Love you.” Draco called. 

Harry smiled softly back before disappearing into the flames. 


	8. Take 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's back  
> Back again  
> Deadass though sorry for the radio silence life has been crazy. Please enjoy this chap while we get back into the swing of things!  
> Year one is almost over!! Just one chap left then we move on to stuff I'm honestly SO excited for.

Harry stumbled through the fireplace, silently accepting the fact that he would never adjust to floo travel.

“Harry?”

The voice was tentative, and Harry looked up to see his godfather slowly getting up from a chair. His clothes were rumpled, and it looked as if he slept in that chair the whole night, on the off chance he arrived early.

_ Waiting for him. _

“Ah- hello. It’s nice to meet you properly.” He said, trying to keep a level voice, but it clearly failed, because suddenly Sirius was right in front of him, and Harry was crying. 

“Oh pup. C'mere.” 

And despite shaking like a twig himself, Sirius held Harry in a firm hug, hands warm against his small back. When they finally separated, Harry’s throat was tight with emotion and Sirius looked similarly wrecked.

As Harry had explained to Draco, he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to feel about this meeting. Harry still remembered his first family. He remembered being held while crying and warm family dinners. But it had been over a decade since he had a family like that to rely on.

Draco had been a radiant light in Harry’s world for the past few months, but this was  _ family.  _ Harry would never doubt the power of the family he and Draco had created, but Sirius was… different.

Harry may be thirty years old, but he couldn’t help craving a parental figure.

He was sure Draco was the exact opposite after living with Lucius for years.

“I’m so sorry.” Harry found he hadn’t processed the words before they left him.

Sirius looked torn between confusion and some form of anger. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.”

But  _ God  _ was he wrong about that. Harry had known from day one that Sirius was innocent. It had crossed his mind, but he hadn’t taken action. The fear of fucking up- of making it  _ worse  _ held him back. He was sure that without the support of the Malfoys and Pettigrew’s appearance at Hogwarts he would have waited to see Sirius until third year.

There were other factors, yes, but Harry knew he was at fault for Sirius’ extended suffering.

But that explanation would have to wait for another day.

As Harry allowed Sirius to guide him through Grimmauld place, he took note of the piles of chocolate frogs placed randomly throughout. He tried very carefully not to think about what years of dementor exposure does to a man.

It was comforting to talk to Sirius. He was all too thrilled to tell Harry stories of his childhood with the Potters. Plus, he didn’t treat Harry like a child.

Perhaps it was because Sirius could only see the ghost of his friend in the shape of his face and pitch black hair, but he would make it a point not to consider that.

It wasn’t until they had retired back to the dust covered kitchen and Sirius had pulled out an old container of biscuits that Harry  _ certainly  _ wasn’t eating that he took full control of the conversation.

“What about Remus?” He questioned from the kitchen table.

Sirius paused in his tale of mischief from fifth year to fix Harry with a look way too full of complex emotion for him to decipher. “What about him?”

It took considerable effort for Harry not to roll his eyes at Sirius’ petulant tone. “Where is he? I mean, I know what happened to Pettigrew and my parents, obviously,” Sirius flinched visibly, “but where’s Remus now? Do you know?”

There was a pause after that where Sirius slowly lowered himself into the chair across from Harry. He licked his lips and scratched at his arms for only a moment before reaching out across the table almost absently, finding Harry’s hand and latching on. Harry forced himself to keep his eyes on their locked hands to give the man a moment to collect himself.

“Remus-” His voice cracked in a way that told Harry it wasn’t just because of Azkaban. “He probably thought I was- I was the secret keeper.” Harry nearly had to lean forward to catch the last few words.

“But he knows the truth now?”

A low whine escaped Sirius and he looked to Harry with fear. “Harry, you have to understand, Remus spent eleven years hating me for the- for what happened.”

If he wasn’t certain Sirius needed more recovery time before hearing the truth, he would have told Sirius right then and there. If he only knew how quick Remus was to forgive him. If there was even anything to forgive, that is.

But, as it was, Harry just nodded and tightened his own grip on Sirius’ hands. “I know. But, he’ll know the truth now. I think- I think you should write him a letter.”

Sirius snorted, “I don’t think a letter can do much there, pup.”

Harry raised a brow and replied, “I don’t know. Draco managed to get Narcissa and Andromeda in a room together with a single letter.”

It took a moment for Sirius to work through placing the names before he leveled Harry with another of his concerned looks. “Narcissa? Malfoy? Her son Draco?”

“He’s my best friend.” Sirius opened his mouth, most likely to lecture Harry on the reputation of the Slytherin Malfoy family, but Harry continued, “He’s helped me through a lot. Plus, he’s a  _ Hufflepuff.” _

Sirius squeaked. “A  _ what? _ ”

“Really went for that idea of defying family expectations you started.” Sirius grinned at that. “I mean, besides,  _ I’m  _ a Slytherin.” There went his grin.

“What do you mean?!” His grip became constricting but Harry made an effort not to react.

“I’m ambitious. I have goals and I want to achieve them.” He spoke slowly, doing his best to sell his godfather on the most pleasant aspects of Slytherin house. No need to mention the cunning or common manipulation yet.

“And I support that, but-”

“The Potters have always been Gryffindors?” Sirius nodded. “I know. But that doesn’t mean anything to me.” It was harsh, but Harry felt he had to get it off his chest. “I never knew mom and dad. I was told they were drunks and died because of it.”

Harry paused speaking long enough to gently reach out with his magic in order to soothe the furious Sirius. “My relatives weren’t… well, they weren’t exactly nice, and I had to fend for myself. I learned that if I wanted something done I could only rely on myself in the beginning. I feel like I’ve grown since then, but being in a more social house like Gryffindor would have been overwhelming for me.”

“I can-” It took a moment for Sirius to speak, and Harry didn’t mind. The man was raised and forced into anti-Slytherin propaganda before suffering in Azkaban with only those ideals for eleven years. He would wait all night if he had too. “I can understand that.”

“Sirius-”

His expression switched to something playful before Harry could even finish his name, “As long as you don’t start acting like those other pureblood gits.”

Harry returned the smile and let out an audible sigh of relief. “Deal. Now, about that letter.”

It hadn’t really taken that much persuading to convince Sirius to write a letter to Remus. Especially not once Harry had added that he really wanted to meet the werewolf. Thankfully, Sirius’ wish for his friends and family to be together was stronger than any fear he still had.

Once the letter had been sent Harry spent the rest of the night with Sirius just listening to stories about his parents and their friends.

Despite all his emotions around that topic, it was nice to hear about the amazing people they were.

He would have liked to meet them. Maybe not as Harry-he didn’t think he could handle being treated like a child in that sense again- but as Rose. As a woman on equal standing and the goal to be friends.

The thought of Ariel causing chaos with Sirius and James was enough to quell that wish.

That night, Harry waited until he knew Sirius was asleep to cast a quick privacy ward and called, “Kreacher.”

The old house elf appeared, looking more than a little upset at being called by him. And, despite the rude ramblings of the elf, it was all too easy to convince him that Harry was determined to destroy the locket Regulus had died for.

Kreacher had to have been suspicious of how he knew the information, but had no issue handing over the locket if Harry swore to break it.

When he heard that Harry was the one destined to defeat Voldemort? The little elf promised to have the house clean by next week. Apparently, he was now one Walburga would have approved of. He guessed that Kreacher assumed any he approved of would also align with the blood purity lectures Walburga used to give.

Harry highly doubted that since his closest friends were a Hufflepuff and muggleborn, but Kreacher didn’t need to know that right now. He could handle listening to one elf rant about blood purity in order to keep him on his side.

Besides, the look on Sirius’ face when he came downstairs to a spotless kitchen and full breakfast was worth every moment.

\--

Remus had only just heard the news about Sirius when he received a letter from the man of the hour. It was brief, awkward, and written in a shaky hand that reminded him of just what he left his friend to suffer through.

It certainly wasn’t what he expected. 

If anything, he had braced himself for the letter to tell him off. Warn him never to return to London and threaten his life or secret. 

But, here he was, scanning over the letter for the sixth time just in case he missed something.

He didn’t.

Sirius wasn’t mad at him. In fact, it looked like Sirius was afraid  _ he  _ would be angry. Sirius wanted to meet for lunch within the next week.

He wanted Remus to meet Harry.

When James and Lily had died he had promised himself he wouldn’t return. His lycanthropy was a curse he would never threaten a child with, and that was all he could be without his friends there to guide him.

Remus wasn’t sure he had ever been so eager to break a promise.

\--

Harry hadn’t really experienced any sort of body dysphoria since arriving in this world. Sometimes he thought about how quick he and Draco had adapted to different bodies and pronouns, but it wasn’t ever an issue. There was no questioning or sense of  _ wrong.  _

Maybe if he had been reborn at a different age it would be different. But, as it were, Rose had been at the age where gender was practically a giant question mark, and she was moved into a body just born.

It was easy to adapt.

Harry and Draco had joked about getting rid of the two canon souls, but that was all it was. A joke. They were in a fictional world and fictional characters. What did it matter.

Harry had never felt more out of place than when he stood across from Remus in a small muggle cafe.

Remus looked at him like he was a god. It unnerved him.

He was only being seen as Harry, son of Lily and James, proud Boy-Who-Lived and savior of the light.

For the first time, that felt  _ wrong. _

The entire time Remus approached he felt like his skin was crawling. It had nothing to do with the actual man, and Harry was trying valiantly not to make it seem that way.

In fact, Harry found Remus’ presence to be comforting. His magic was tinged with something wild, and he assumed it was the werewolf part of him. It was strong and he could see it as intimidating, but it didn’t bother Harry. It just felt like a part of nature, and was almost a more intense version of the way an animagus transformation altered the magic of a wizard.

For a drawn out moment Remus and Sirius stood across from each other, awkward and stiff.

Harry broke the moment by rolling his eyes and moving forward to embrace Remus. “It’s good to meet you.”

Remus practically melted in relief and crouched slightly to return the affection. “Harry.” His tone was reverent, and Harry once again had to shove down that skin-crawl feeling.

“Remus.” Sirius stepped forward the instant Harry stepped to the side, and the two met half-way in a desperate hug.

Harry chose that moment to wander to the counter and order a variety of items for them. He didn’t think he could listen to Remus apologizing to Sirius in that state. It wasn’t his fault anyways. Remus had been led to believe Sirius was the secret keeper just like the rest of the world.

Taking a shaky breath, Harry cast a glance over his shoulder to see Remus and Sirius now seated and smiling. Sirius had one of Remus’ hands in a deathgrip in his standard comforting move. His effort to remind himself he wasn’t alone anymore.

Harry took his time in collecting their food and returning to the table. Sirius looked up and grinned at Harry’s arms full of food.

“Hungry, pup?” The nickname got Remus’ attention and they were now  _ both  _ looking at him like he was the light of their life. Overwhelming wasn’t a strong enough word.

“Well, you didn’t eat much at breakfast and I didn’t know what Remus would like.” Harry shrugged as he unceremoniously dumped the wrapped items on the table.

“Thanks, Harry.” Remus immediately grabbed one of the sandwiches, and Harry felt his heart twist again.

Remus was nearly as thin as Sirius, and Harry swore at that moment to completely rewrite the laws about werewolves. Actually, all magical creatures.

Most of the conversation was light. Sirius fell back into telling stories but now with Remus interjecting. Every once in a while Remus would look at Sirius and wince, and just as often Remus would apologize for any little thing.

“So,” Harry started, picking the last packet of potato wedges from the table covered in wrappers, “You’re gonna move in with us, right?”

Remus choked on his water and Sirius was suddenly sitting straighter than Harry had ever seen him. “I don’t- I don’t know if-” Remus cut off and looked towards Sirius with equal parts apprehension and hope.

“I mean-” Sirius cleared his throat, “You’re always welcome, Remus.”

There was a moment where they both just stared at each other, and Harry knew they still had a lot to work through with their own guilt and fear. But, as far as first steps went, this was a good one.

“I-If you’re sure…” Remus looked to Harry again as Sirius scoffed and nodded, “I’d love that.”

\--

A week after break ended, once back at Hogwarts, Harry and Draco were still spending the majority of their time in a corner of the library. With the rumors flying about Harry staying with Sirius Black and Draco cursing a werewolf, they were better off avoiding the majority of the school.

Other students would join them occasionally, but for the most part Harry and Draco were left in a rare and appreciated silence.

It was during one of these moments on a Saturday when a stack of books nearly twelve high was dropped onto the table between them with a resounding thud.

Hermione stood behind them proudly, only panting slightly from the weight of the novels. “Guess what I found.” She instructed, wiping the shine of sweat from her brow with her sweater.

Draco and Harry looked over the titles on reincarnation theory carefully, almost in disbelief. “Where did you find all of these?” Draco questioned with awe.

“Owl order mostly.” She shrugged. “But I’ve highlighted especially interesting parts for you.” She grabbed two from the stack seemingly at random and shoved them towards the two. “Start with these. Tell me if you find anything familiar.” With that said she plopped into one of the other chairs at the table and grabbed her own book from the pile, ignoring the way the rest came cascading down.

Harry watched for a moment in amazement before turning to his own book.

Nearly three hours into their session Draco slammed down the book in front of him with a wild grin. “ _ I found something.” _

He swung the book around and shoved it at Harry. “Start at the second paragraph.”

Hermione swung around the table to read over his shoulder.

_ It can be argued that the most popular symbol of reincarnation and rebirth is the phoenix; a majestic bird most well known for it’s nearly everlasting life and intense loyalty. It is a symbol of life, and revered among many cultures both magical and muggle. _

_ According to famous philosopher Silvia Falman, the phoenix is indeed the symbol of life, but only one half of a whole. She presents the concept of a balance between life and death where the ouroboros is the darker counterpart of the phoenix. Both of these animals are symbols of rebirth, but Falman argues they are two sides of a coin, and cannot exist without the other. _

_ This is mostly referenced in her own novel,  _ Link Between Life and Death _ , where she goes into further detail on the topic and the supposed prophet linking the two reincarnation symbols together. Many in the scholarly circles consider her tales to be the ravings of a mad man, but they are interesting none the less. _

Harry slowly pushed the book away from him with a deep breath. “ _ Phoenix. _ ” He breathed. Mind turning in consecutive circles, Harry grabbed the edge of the table and dug his nails into the wood in an attempt to ground himself. “Life and death- _ Master of Death- _ it’s-” He made eye contact with Draco and saw the blonde matching his apprehension. “We need to find her book.”

Apparently, it wasn’t quite as easy as that.

The book wasn’t anywhere in Hogwarts library, and both Lucius and Sirius confirmed they didn’t have any copies of it. Remus suggested it was due to its lack of popularity.

Everything written by Falman was a joke to most wizards, so not many were printed to begin with. Hermione had assured them she was on it, and they had no issue believing that.

So, with that their primary focus, the semester continued.

It was about a month after their discovery of the book when Draco and Harry were laying in the Slytherin common room and Harry had a realization.

“I never went to the mirror.” He whispered despite the privacy wards set up around them.

Draco hummed from his place at the end of the couch and shrugged, “Oh well. Might be better that we don’t know what we’d see.”

He lifted one of the feet resting in Draco’s lap to kick the book he was reading. “No, dude, we talked about this. What if Dumbledore only hid the stone there because canon Harry reminded him of the mirror?” Draco ignored the book clattering to the ground in favor of staring down Harry.

Because, of course, nothing could go according to plan for them. They had realized earlier that Dumbledore had, in canon, informed Harry he had forgotten about the Mirror of Erised. Thus, Harry stumbling across it may have been the inspiration for the stones final hiding place.

“Oh, fuck.”

Harry groaned as Draco ran his hands through his hair. “What the fuck do we do now?”

It didn’t take near as much time as Harry expected before Draco froze and flashed Harry a terrifying grin. “Stone’s probably still in his office right?”

Harry almost regretted nodding when Draco’s eyes flashed and he leaned forward to say, “Let’s Dishonored this shit.”

\--

In theory, it was almost disgustingly easy to sneak into Dumbledore’s office. Harry thought he remembered an interview where Rowling expressed regret at giving Harry the cloak, and he had to agree. It gave him a quick solution to nearly every problem they faced.

This time, though, it was Draco under the cloak sticking right behind Harry as he climbed the stairs to Dumbledore’s office. They only had to wait a few days before Dumbledore called Harry up for another of their meetings.

He hadn’t in the month or so since they returned from break, but Harry assumed he was just giving him a moment to simmer down after their argument. Which, might have worked- if Harry was actually just an eleven year old boy. But as an adult who fully understood the events of the next decade, Harry wasn’t inclined to forgive quite yet.

Not that he was going to condemn Dumbledore for his actions. He was an old man doing what he thought was best for the world. Harry could understand that.

But he could never forgive forcing a child back into an abusive home.

Draco swore suddenly behind him. “Fucking stairs, dude.”

Harry coughed to hide a laugh, “I’m begging you to shut up and stay quiet.”

A noncommittal hum was Draco’s response.

To be safe, Harry lowered Basil to the ground with a few instructions.

When Dumbledore greeted Harry and the door to the office opened, Harry held it open long enough for Basil to slither in, tailed by the invisible Draco. The meeting was as boring as he expected, useless questions about his schooling and how his break went. It wasn’t until a few minutes had passed that Dumbledore finally asked, “So, you stayed with Sirius for the end of break?”

Harry forced himself to ignore both the drawer slowly sliding open behind Dumbledore and the theory that the man may have known Sirius was innocent. “Yeah, and Remus came to stay with us for a few days as well.”

As Dumbledore went to respond a low thud came from next to him. Harry felt his breath catch in his throat and did his best not to look towards the noise. Dumbledore didn’t startle, however, as it was explained away by Fawkes soaring from that direction and landing on the desk in front of Harry.

He could kiss the bird right now.

“I’m relieved Sirius was freed, but I hope you understand that you will still have to return to your aunt and uncle this summer.”

Harry frowned. “But, why, sir? Sirius has invited me to stay with him since I am technically heir to the Black family now.” There was a tap on his shoulder that told him the job was done.

“The blood wards I had mentioned to you must be renewed every year.” He was a fool if he thought Harry would bother. “It should only take a month, but I ask that you stay with your relatives for that time come summer.”

“No.” Harry shook his head even as Fawkes trilled and pushed his head into Harry’s open hand. “With all due respect, I couldn’t care less if the wards stayed. If it’s that much of a concern have someone cast the fidelius. I will not be returning and as Sirius is my legal guardian you have no authority to request it.”

Harry stood, whispering a quick command to Basil who followed him out the door in the same manner they entered.

“Damn, I never realized just how much of a dick he was with that.” Draco muttered once the gargoyle had swung back shut.

“Stone?” Harry asked instead of continuing Draco’s line of thought. Not that he needed to ask. As soon as Draco had removed the stone from the drawer no doubt lined with wards Harry had felt the magic from it. It was warm, but with a hint of something foul that he didn’t really want to figure out.

Draco nodded, pulling off the cloak and passing it to Harry. “Should I stash it with the Toms?”

In agreement, Harry swerved towards the Slytherin dorms. It had been the decision to keep them in Harry’s rooms if only for the understanding within the dorms. Slytherins would usually be the first suspects for going through each others things, but they were the kids of death eaters. If they didn’t know the rumors about Harry being the dark lord then they  _ definitely  _ knew about Draco cursing a werewolf.

Not to mention it helped having a massive black mamba sleep on his trunk as a silent warning.

So, as soon as they returned they slid the stone into the compartment alongside the locket that continued to hiss furiously at them.

“Honestly? I don’t know if I like being able to understand the shit that thing says.” Draco mused.

Harry couldn’t help but agree.

\--

The first time Draco made Quirrell question if it was all worth it was in the hall between classes.

“Man,” Draco called to Harry in a voice just loud enough that it should have warned him. “I was really trying to get the information from Slughorn, but he hasn’t replied to my letter.” He sighed dramatically. “I mean, I got the idea from a restricted section book, but it’s not like I actually split it to make one yet!”

Harry was about to ask why the hell they were talking about Slughorn instead of their potions essay when Quirrell nearly shoved another student out of the way to race past them.

“ _ Dude. _ ”

\--

Draco was having the time of his life.

He hadn’t thought living through the wizarding war would be anything but horrendous, but  _ damn  _ it was worth it if only to absolutely ruin Quirrell’s life. Seeing the man squirm in response to Draco’s taunts was certainly the highlight of his career in Hogwarts.

Harry had scolded him, saying he was being a little  _ too  _ bold in his questioning, but were there really consequences? If Quirrell tried anything he’d just have Harry slap him or something. He really did want to test the limits of the whole ‘touch can kill’ thing anyways.

“Professor?” Draco called, hanging back as the rest of the class filed out. Quirrell looked up and nearly sighed. “I was doing some extra reading on Albania and I had some questions.”

Draco watched as Quirrell went through all five stages of grief before replying, “Yes, Mr. Malfoy?”

His smile stretched into a shit eating grin. “Well, I was just on a chapter about spirits and I read that sometimes they can latch onto living creatures.” He took pride in the way Quirrell paled. “And we learned about full possession, but I was interested in the ones where a spirit only partially possesses. One example had a face form on the back of a mountain goat.” Draco pinned him with the most innocent look he could manage, “Thoughts?”

The room was quiet enough that Draco could hear the pained whine from Quirrell. “Can’t- can’t say I have any.” He practically hissed.

“Hm, well, that much was already clear, but thanks.” Draco bolted from the classroom, trying not to laugh.

\--

“Professor?” It was an effort to hold back his mirth at Quirrell’s defeated expression. “Will we be learning about spells to increase lifespans?”

Quirrell’s eyes narrowed, and there was the brief thought that Draco had gone too far, but he was known for not carrying the brain cell at the worst moments. “Of what sort?”

It also didn’t pass Draco’s notice that by now Quirrell didn’t stutter around him. “Well, I was looking more into  _ items.  _ Something used to keep a wizard alive.”

The professor winced as if in pain, “I can’t say we will this year.”

Draco hummed, “Ah, okay. I’ll just send another letter to Slughorn. I’m pretty sure he’s talked about them before.”

\--

_ “Hello. I didn’t expect to see you here.”  _ Draco hissed the carefully practiced phrase from where he sat in the front of the room. The other students hadn’t arrived yet.  _ “Especially not looking like that. What has Potter done to you?” _

“What did you just say?” Quirrell practically growled in a voice not quite his own.

Draco smiled and leaned down to pick up Basil from where she sat. “Sorry, Professor, I was just talking to Basil.” He held up the snake as a demonstration, “Harry decided to force her into a sweater.”

It was really Draco that had wormed the angry snake into the fabric for the purpose of annoying Quirrell, but Basil had agreed to keep silent for an extra meal.

\--

“Professor?”

Quirrell, who was far too used to hearing that voice, answered mindlessly, “Yes, Mr. Malfoy?”

Because whatever asinine question the kid could conjure would only result in an angered Dark Lord later, and Quirrell was also getting far too used to dealing with the pissed off spirit.

“I was reading about spirits again, and this book mentioned that sometimes possessed people need more energy than the average wizard to survive. Like, I read one where a witch drank  _ unicorn blood.  _ Can you imagine something so horrible?”

Yes, Quirrell could imagine quite well.

\--

“Hagrid said unicorns have been killed in the forest this year.” Draco informed from his place at this desk filing his nails. He had, once again, arrived nearly twenty minutes early.

“Fascinating.” Quirrell answered without looking up from his work.

“I wonder why it’s happening. Must be linked to  _ something _ .”

“Couldn’t say.”

\--

“When someone’s possessed, do you think they gain a lot of the spirit’s knowledge? Like, if I was possessed by a stronger wizard would I be able to cast spells he could?”

Quirrell didn’t hesitate before answering, “Not necessarily. The information might be there but there’s a difference between theory and practice.”

\--

Draco looked up as he capped his glitter pen, “With possession, do you think it’s like you just automatically gain the spirits knowledge, or would they have to tell you information you needed?”

“It’s automatically there, but only memories that the spirit allows. You would still have to search for a memory like you do in your own thoughts.”

\--

“How does it work? Like,” Draco spun the book he was reading to show his professor the image of a woman with another man’s face on the back of her head. “Do they share lungs? Does the face have to breathe? I have so many questions.”

Quirrell just shrugged in response. “Magic.”

Needless to say, the answer didn’t satisfy Draco.

\--

“Do you share brain activity? Like does it hurt if you would both think at once? Would you share emotions? Hypothetically of course.”

“Emotions are a bit more separate than that. There isn’t any sharing of them.”

\--

“Like, theoretically, would you be able to just hear the spirit telepathically? Or would he have to speak physically.”

“Specific thoughts can be shared telepathically, but individual phrases and words have to be said out loud or it’s hard to get the exact message.”

\--

“If you had one of those spirits on the back of your head, how would you sleep? Would you only be able to lay on your side?”

“Usually.”

\--

“So, like, he’s there, but can Voldemort fully possess you?”

“Yes, but only for a short time since it takes so much energy."

Quirrell’s quill snapped as he looked up to meet Draco’s gaze. There was a long pause as they both looked at each other, shocked.

“Fascinating.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Draco, just fucking around: so about voldemort  
> Quirrell: yeah  
> Both: *tails meme*
> 
> AKA
> 
> Voldemort: I CANT FUCKING TAKE THIS ANYMORE  
> Draco: haha gottem bois


	9. Take 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YALL give me LIFE we read the nice comments and immediately wrote this chapter thank you so much.

Draco Malfoy was raised amongst the equivalent of the top one percent in the wizarding world. With that came certain expectations for nearly every aspect of his life. If it wasn’t how he acted, it was how he dressed, walked, talked, even _breathed._

Being a twenty year old woman in the body of a child didn’t excuse him from the lessons, so he quickly learned to work through them just well enough to get by. But, after being on the wrong side of Lucius’ glare for one too many years, he _did_ pick up the habits.

They were never practiced in his daily life, but it became almost a persona. Over time it became nearly a defense mechanism. It was easy for Draco to slip into his Purebloodsona and get through a rough night at dinner with minimum casualties.

This was exactly what he hoped for as the rest of his class began to file in. It was only a few Ravenclaws that somehow showed up to even this joke of a class early.

“I don’t feel so good.” He called. “I’m gonna- gonna go to Pomphrey.” He stood with the Malfoy Grace and abandoned his supplies to walk towards the door as collected as possible.

“Malfoy.”

Draco froze at the harsh tone. He should just _run-_ just _absolutely book it_ to Harry and the other teachers. He chanced a look over his shoulder and even at this distance could see the vibrant red lacing Quirrell’s eyes.

“Yes, Professor?” He’d forever deny the way his voice cracked like the iceberg from the Titanic, but noticed a few more students now hanging back.

“I’m willing to ignore what you just admitted to if you are.” Draco tried to placate, when the silence had stretched too long.

The Ravenclaws looked confused, and they were bound to be curious about their suddenly serious professor and terrified Draco. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to thank them for arriving early or scream.

Quirrell seemed to only grow angrier at his words. “I’d suggest you run now.”

His brow furrowed and he saw his confusion mirrored in the other students. “But-” He wasn’t sure how to voice ‘you can’t kill me- there’s witnesses’.

“Witnesses?” Quirrell laughed, and briefly Draco wondered how much of the person there was really Quirrell. Then his wand was drawn and Draco found he really didn’t care that much. “I’m the _Dark Lord_ , you think I care about a few school children?”

Draco’s mouth fell into a silent ‘o’, completely ignoring the other-now panicking- students. But, never let it be said that even in the face of peril Draco managed to keep his mouth shut. “Uh huh. I’m in danger.”

He _booked it._

_\--_

Harry was having a relatively calm day, all things considered. There were still two days until exams began, and he found he wasn’t too worried about them. He struggled a bit with the theoretical of classes like potions, but could more than make up for in his practicals.

 _“Little One leaves soon.”_ Salal’s voice interrupted his pondering about the potions book in his hands.

 _“Yes,”_ He confirmed as the basilisk wound another circle around him since her meal was long finished. _“I’ll be back next year with en extra large offering if you wanted to sleep until then.”_

The snake shook her head as if too clear an annoying thought before laying it down near Harry’s legs. “ _I will not sleep again.”_

He couldn’t argue with that. Being put to sleep for centuries, waking up and not even getting to eat before sleeping for another few decades? Well, aside from the not eating it didn’t sound that bad to Harry.

_“Where will you hunt?”_

_“The forest.”_ Salal answered while pushing her head into Harry’s hand.

Harry laughed, _“You could have been hunting there the whole time?”_

Salal looked to him with her film covered eyes, _“Too many young in the winter.”_

He hummed his understanding and smiled as Salal’s body inched closer. She acted scarily like a dog at times. But, any sentient creature is bound to have emotions, and the poor girl was treated terribly and locked away her whole life.

_“You would allow me to stay awake and hunt until your return?”_

Although pretty sure that’s what he had just said, Harry confirmed, _“Of course. You have sworn to leave the humans alone and do not wish to sleep.”_

Salal was silent for a moment. _“You are kinder than my other masters.”_

Harry felt a disgusting amount of affection towards the giant basilisk from that phrase. _“You deserve no less.”_

He ended up taking a nap in the chamber with Salal, and only left when he realized he missed half of his transfiguration class. Salal was sad to see him go, but Harry quickly explained that he wasn’t sure if he would have time to come back down before summer break.

Harry went towards the medical wing, getting a simple headache excuse to avoid a detention from McGonagall.

With the rest of his transfiguration time open and a free period after, Harry finally went towards the room of requirement as they had been planning for months. They had honestly expected to remember it earlier, but with everything happening this year neither had had the time.

So Harry entered and looked around the giant piles of discarded items. Spying a god awful wide brimmed yellow hat with a feather, Harry snatched it up to give to Draco later. Picking his way through the aisles, grabbing loot along the way, Harry finally found the diadem horcrux. He made his way out of the Room before returning to his dorms and going to stash it away with the other horcrux.

“What the hell is that?”

He looked up to see Blaise entering the dorm.

“A hat.”

“No, not that. The hissing tiara.”

“Oh.” Harry looked down at the diadem. “One of Voldemort’s horcruxes.”

Blaise blanched. “I’m sorry, a _what_.”

Harry had been planning on telling Blaise for a while. Not the whole reincarnation thing, but he could use more help with the horcruxes, and Blaise was…. _resourceful._

Initially he had planned to make the kid research horcruxes on his own. Lead him into it slowly, but-

“A piece of his soul. There’s like seven and we have to destroy them before we can fully kill Voldemort.” He reached into the trunk and pulled out the locket. “This is another. Ravenclaw’s diadem and Slytherin’s locket. The one we’re going for next is Hufflepuff’s cup. Then it’s just a few Gaunt family artifacts.”

“Hey, but-”

Harry replaced the horcruxes if only to get away from their suffocating aura. “Voldemort’s not dead.”

“Okay, but like-”

“He’s gonna come back and try to kill me so I’m getting a head start.”

“Yeah, but-”

“I’m not saying this to get help from you, but it would be appreciated-”

“ _Harry.”_ Harry finally processed Blaise standing there with his fists clenched and pale from the strain. “You have ones from three of the founders? What about Gryffindor?”

Harry grinned. He knew there was a reason he liked this kid.

\--

Draco realized once he left the room that he had no idea where to go. Harry was an option for the whole Face Melting Hand thing, but he would have to get close enough. He suddenly had no doubts Quirrell wouldn’t hesitate to fling killing curses into a crowd.

Most teachers would be in a class as well and Draco couldn’t physically bring himself to lead a murderer into a room with that many children without some kind of plan in place.

A bright green spell slammed into the wall next to Draco and only emphasized his point.

 _Harry had_ that _class right now so-_

He turned on his heel and sprinted down the stairs to the left. Ariel’s track coach would be proud of his form.

It took Draco a few minutes to reach his destination, but there hadn’t been any more spells to dodge. Had he lost him?

Draco _slammed_ open the door of the potions classroom.

Even as Snape made some kind of disgruntled noise and the class looked up in panic, Draco moved in and whipped the door shut behind him.

“He knows.” He yelled a touch too loudly in Harry’s direction.

“He…?” Harry started, before understanding dawned on his features.

“I need your love protected hands!”

Harry suddenly took on that ‘I _Will_ Live Up To My Dark Lord Reputation’ look that frankly scared the hell out of Draco.

“You are _such_ a fucking idiot.”

“Hey!” He shouted indignantly. “I didn’t expect him to out himself in front of like twelve students!”

Harry gave him the ‘I Know That’s Not The Whole Story And I’m Not Mad Just Disappointed’ look. Draco was starting to realize just how many distinct looks related to Draco being an idiot.

“Mister Malfoy! Just what is going on here?” Snape moved forward until he stood near Harry who was quickly rifling through his things.

“Uh…” Draco managed, looking between Harry and Snape in panic.

“Our defence teacher has been partially possessed by a fragment of Voldemort all year.” He deadpanned. “He’s probably going after the stone now.”

Snape looked like he wished he was literally anywhere else right now, and Draco couldn’t blame him. “ _How_ do you know any of that?”

Draco didn’t miss the way Snape’s hand tightened around his wand. Was Severus Snape buying into the Dark Lord Harry rumors? Was he…?

In a typical Draco move he whipped out his own wand and pointed it towards his professor. Snape looked, well, _horrified._ “Don’t.” He instructed. “This is something Harry and I need to handle.”

 _“Draco.”_ His voice held a desperation that Draco had never heard. “You wouldn’t- I’m your _godfather.”_

It was then that Draco remembered Snape had been at the Yule Gala.

Did… did he really think Draco would curse him? Would use the _cruciatus?_ The thought made Draco’s heart clench. He might not like Snape but he would never… _Without reason?_

Snape-for all his shitty personality-was Draco’s godfather. His parent’s most trusted. He helped raise Draco and teach him about potions and was now just a teacher doing his job.

Fenrir was a werewolf he didn’t know who had- who had _threatened Harry._

_Oh._

Draco looked between the shocked Harry and Snape who’s grip on his wand had only tightened. He wouldn’t be surprised if Snape managed to snap his own wand.

“I…”

He was interrupted by Harry shoving one last item in a small pouch-no doubt expandable- and hurrying towards Draco. Magic practically danced around him, and Draco wasn’t sure if it was because of the Quirrell situation or just Draco’s actions.

With Basil perched on his shoulders and wand out… Draco could see just why so many believed what Harry would grow into.

But this… this mess of fear and reputations and _everything_ would have to be sorted out later.

They would be having a long overdue conversation, but first they had a Dark Lord to catch.

\--

“Quirrell escaped with the stone.”

Harry overheard the words from McGonagall and practically snapped. “ _Fuck!”_ He shrieked, easily drawing the attention of the gathered professors and headmaster. “Seriously?! What the fuck were you lot doing while he waltzed past your traps?!” The magic that had wisped around Harry was now _crackling_ around him like condensed lightning.

He saw Draco moving closer, but was _pissed. “_ And what the fuck even were those traps? A _first year_ could get through that shit! You specifically taught us how to deal with every obstacle!” Harry focused his eyes just on Dumbledore. “You’re trying to tell me the best magic users of this generation couldn’t protect _one_ fucking stone?!”

There was no immediate response and Harry threw his hands in the air with a groan. In the respite that followed Draco moved quickly to put his hands on Harry’s shoulders, gently nudging Basil out of the way. “Hey.”

It took all of Harry’s concentration to put his focus on the sensation from Draco and not the blinding rage towards the professors. He closed his eyes, desperately trying to _calm down._

It didn’t _matter_ in the end. The stone was a fake and he was sure Voldemort would kill Quirrell for it. But _shit._

In canon Harry had had to fight tooth and nail to stay alive against the challenges and Quirrell. But he survived, and saved the stone. A first year who had never been exposed to magic had made it past those traps.

How had revered wizards only managed such simple protections? Why had they taught first years the solutions?

If he hadn't intervened Quirrell would have gotten the real stone so _easily._ There wasn't a single ward or protective spell besides a _mirror?_

Harry felt like he was going feral, losing control of his magic. There was the brief thought that Harry wasn't necessarily mad on behalf of himself. Canon Harry had been forced into this and if that _eleven year old child_ had decided not to go on an adventure with his friends the wizarding world would have suffered.

He didn't know the reasoning behind the poorly made obstacles, but he did know the consequences. Quirrell was already in Hogwarts. Anyone taking the stone would have free access to the school. They were endangering _kids._

It made it worse that now Quirrell was an unknown variable. Voldemort still has Quirrell- has a _body-_ and Harry knew just how much easier that could make some of his plans. What if the Tri-wizard Tournament is moved up? What if he comes up with an entirely new plan that they can’t prepare for?

He and Draco were completely unprepared for any of that and needed time. Time that Voldemort searching for a new host would have bought them.

Truthfully, it was only through the contact with Draco that Harry gradually centered himself. Though, part of him wished he hadn’t when he opened his eyes to see the angry gathered crowd.

“ _Mister Potter.”_ There was no shock that it was McGonagall who had spoken.

“I'm sorry?”

It took nearly four hours before Draco and Harry were dismissed. After the nearly twenty minute lecture from various teachers on language and respect, they had been subjected to questioning.

Harry understood that they wanted to know why Harry knew all of this- especially since he didn’t have Canon Harry actions to explain it away.

In the end, they went with a story along the lines of canon. Draco and Harry had overheard Quirrell talking to himself and got suspicious. They followed him to the cerberus room and saw the dog standing over a trap door. It took a while to research but they found that a cerberus could be put to sleep by music.

Just the two of them had gone through the door out of curiosity and a sense of duty to stop Quirrell. They had gotten through the traps without killing or permanently damaging anything but had been stumped by the mirror since they didn’t know what they were looking for.

They started following Quirrell more, and heard him talking about a stone and revival. They put the pieces together and figured out it was the philosopher’s stone. Draco accidentally let it slip that he knew something and Quirrell threatened him so he went to get Harry and teacher’s assistance since they already knew how to get through the traps.

But Quirrell was already gone.

It wasn’t super realistic in Harry’s eyes, but they managed to sell it without too much issue. Draco was surprisingly good at convincing them his story was true.

Harry would make a Slytherin out of him yet.

\--

“Dude, you know that has a low-level curse on it right?” Harry questioned as they entered the great hall. Draco had absolutely refused to take off the yellow hat Harry had found

“That's why it's so ugly.”

Draco shuffled like an offended bird. “ _Excuse you._ This is peak fashion.”

Harry only sighed and listened to Dumbledore's end of the year speech. Even with Harry as a member, Slytherin still managed to win the house cup. But, for him, that wasn’t important.

“Gained 56 and lost 93.” Draco declared from his spot across from Harry as the feast began.

“Nice hat.” One of the Weasley twins commented as they switched tables to join the duo. Draco preened at the compliment.

“72 to 89!” The second twin exclaimed while high-fiving the other. Draco really needed to get them nametags.

“For both of you?” Draco questioned while pointing at them with his spoon, “The _exact_ same?”

“Mate,” One-George, he thinks- began.

“Have you ever seen us apart?” The comment was lighthearted, but Draco saw that flash of anxiety again.

“Nah, it’s just wack, ya know?” They did not, in fact, know. “So twins won? Did we ever figure out which stat is more important?”

“173 to 158.” Harry quietly added between bites of potato.

Draco spit his soup back into the bowl. “ _Dude.”_

Harry shrugged, “I’m the Boy-Who-Lived, man. I sneeze and they give me points.”

The other three nodded in understanding while Draco slowly pushed the bowl of potatoes away and reached for one of the rolls on Harry’s plate.

“Yeah, but-”

“How did you manage to lose that many?” The twins asked.

“Snape fucking hates me because I look like my dad.” He answered with a particularly harsh stab into his mashed potatoes. “I sneeze and he takes _away_ points.”

Draco tore a chunk from the roll and gave Harry a sympathetic look. “That’s rough buddy.”

Hermione just sighed from next to him.

\--

Going into Hogwarts, Harry hadn’t expected to form solid friendships. He had Draco, and getting too close to anyone else was a terrifying concept that could go South way too quickly.

But, as he sat on the train in a way too cramped compartment, Harry found he didn’t wish for anything else.

Neville, Hermione, and Blaise were on one side while Hannah, Susan, and Draco sat on the other. Harry was comfortably sat on the floor between Draco’s legs with a book while Draco attempted to braid his hair.

There was room to sit beside the others, but Harry had refused since he didn't want to see Draco's horrid hat any longer.

As the train approached King's Cross, they all made hasty promises to write to each other over the summer.

“And I'll keep looking for that book.” Hermione informed. Harry had nearly forgotten about their reincarnation search with the chaos surrounding Quirrell.

“Thanks, Hermione.”

“Damn,” Blaise cut in, “No need for the sad look- we'll see each other for Draco’s birthday at the latest.”

Hermione frowned, “I didn't think I'd be invited to something like that.” She received six deadpan looks in response.

“Seriously?” Hannah questioned. “What, you think Draco's going to listen to his dad's rules? He's already a Hufflepuff. Can't get much worse in his eyes.”

Draco shrugged. “You got me there.”

A round of laughter went through the compartment, and Harry marveled at how lucky he was to have these friends by his side.

It was a miracle that Harry had survived his first year due to the many screw ups, but he considered it a victory over all. He had Sirius freed, Remus returned, the school was safe, and no one had died.

He just wondered how long he could keep it up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blaise: whatcha got there?  
> Harry: a smoothie


	10. Take 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY NEW YEAR!!  
> Hope everyone's having a great holiday season and has an amazing 2020!!  
> Please enjoy this summer chapter as my state finally gets some snow again!

Draco's birthday party wasn't too soon after school ended, but Harry was thrilled to be able to see him again. Any time apart felt like too long when you were each others only link to a previous life.

Everyone he expected was present and he was quick to seek out the nervous looking Hermione from where she had arrived.

“Missed you!” He chimed while drawing her into a hug.

“You too.”

She returned the embrace and Harry drew back, frowning at the way her eyes darted around the room again. It was understandable- Lucius had invited a wide array of Slytherins and their parents. The room was full of death eaters.

Harry leaned towards Hermione again and whispered, “No one will even look at you wrong.”

Hermione gave him a look that was equal parts gratitude and scepticism.

Sure that she was about to lecture him that he couldn't be  _ certain _ , Harry cut in, “They see me as  _ some  _ form of dark lord even with Voldemort's return.” Hermione's eyes widened as she looked again for people that may hear. “They saw Draco curse a  _ werewolf.” _

Harry gave a grin that was far too Slytherin for her taste. “Plus, they know you're with me. None would risk the lives of their family by hurting you. But-”

He moved to place a hand on Hermione's shoulder. “If you want, I can have Basil stick with you today?”

Hermione pursed her lips. She wasn't afraid of the snake, and she would provide an important message that would keep any blood purists away from her. It was hard enough to convince Lucius to let her in.

She nodded, and Harry hissed a quick command. Basil slithered to transfer and wrap around Hermione's shoulders.

“Thank you.” Hermione said in a quiet tone.

Harry just flashed another grin and dragged her towards the rest of their friends.

“Look who I found!” The gathered crowd all gave greetings and Draco immediately moved forward to hug Hermione.

Harry was impressed that Hermione wasn't even phased by Draco's holographic dragon themed shirt.

“I have a gift for you!” Draco sang.

Hermione startled. “My birthday's in September?”

Draco nodded, “ _ yeah,  _ but I didn't get you anything last year! I got Harry a gift too!” Harry cringed and Hermione furrowed her brow.

“It's  _ your  _ birthday.” She argued.

Blaise shook his head and put a hand on her shoulder in a show of solidarity. “Don't bother.” He advised, pulling his hand back when Basil gave it a curious sniff. “He does this every year. Doesn't like to be the only one getting gifts I guess.”

The others that have known Draco longer shrugged in agreement.

It was true though. When the kids settled enough to present Draco with gifts, he returned almost the same amount. No one even gave a second glance except Hermione as he passed a small package to Harry.

“Happy birthday!” Draco chimed with enough enthusiasm to activate Harry's fight or flight.

Harry knew the tradition, but still shook his head at the phrase. “Okay, but, it's not-” He tried to argue before Draco waved a hand dismissively.

“This was important to get to you  _ before  _ the end of summer.” That caused him to raise a brow, and he glanced at the wrapping long enough to finally  _ feel _ it. The aura of it was malicious, dark, and- familiar?

He looked to Draco with fear in his eyes. “Tell me you didn't.” He muttered, somehow managing to draw the attention of every adult with that sentence.

“Open it.” Draco urged.

With a deep sigh Harry opened the wrapping. Just as he expected, he now had the original horcrux sitting in his lap. The diary. “Fuck.”

He lifted it from the box and relished in the pained noise that escaped Lucius behind him. “Where did you-  _ the library. _ ”

In that moment it struck him how  _ dumb _ he was. He spent a year avoiding the library due to it's strange magic and it was the horcrux he had felt.

Wow.

But, either way, he and Draco now had three of the seven horcruxes. Four if you counted his scar.

Lucius was seething behind Harry, but that could be dealt with later.

Not that Harry could blame the guy. He thought Harry was the dark lord, saw the partial return of the old dark lord, and now saw Harry receive something Voldemort had trusted him with as a birthday gift. Harry would be pissed too.

The rest of the gift exchange was uneventful. Most gifts were appropriate coming from eleven and twelve year-olds. A collection of books, plants, and school materials sat at Draco's side.

They soon moved to the dining hall for dinner and most of the Hogwarts students and families left shortly after that.

“So, the book thing. That's a… you know?” Blaise motioned vaguely to the diary still in Harry's hands while the others said goodbye to Theo and Pansy.

Harry looked to Blaise and raised a brow. “Horcrux? Yeah. First he created.” He handed the book to him to page through.

Letting out a shaky breath Blaise continued. “And Malfoy had it?”

“Voldemort trusted it to Lucius before he died.” He explained. “If you subscribe to the whole ‘soul constantly split in half’ theory then that's half of his soul.”

Blaise frantically pushed the book back towards Harry who laughed.

“So, Harry.” He looked to see Neville approaching with Hermione, Draco, Susan, and Hannah. The others must have left already. “Why a diary? I expected Draco to get you like… a knife or something.” Draco grinned at the implication.

“Hm?” Harry held up the book and used it like a fan. “Draco's been telling me I need to write down my dreams lately. You know- self-realization and all that.”

Draco snorted. “You really thought I'd get him a weapon?” He held a hand to his chest and reared back, “I'm hurt! What kind of person do you think I am?”

With a laugh Hannah added “You're one part nice kid, one part gorilla that wants to kill the other half.”

Slack-jawed, Draco stared at Hannah for a moment.

“Well,” Harry breathed, breaking the silence, “we don’t have time to unpack all of that.”

\--

While the actual birthday party was fun, Draco was dreading what came after. It was a bold move giving Harry the diary so publicly, but where was the fun in being subtle? Perhaps in the whole ‘not getting yelled at by Lucius’ part.

But, Lucius’ feelings weren’t important in the long run. They had horcruxes to hunt, and now they needed to speed up their game. Quirrell being alive and free was a risk they hadn’t anticipated.

Draco had been pretty open in referencing the horcruxes, so it would make sense if Voldemort spent this time gathering them again. If he moved them… they didn’t know if they’d be able to play this out right. There were plans laid out for the next few years and Draco didn’t want some idiot who picked up Voldemort’s soul ruin them.

Hopefully, though, Hermione would be an asset if anything did happen. But he hated the thought of having to use a kid like that. He wasn’t any better than the adults of this world if he fully dragged Hermione into a horcrux camping trip again.

Which reminded him- he should really deal with Ron soon. The kid had seemed better towards the end of the year (probably grateful that they dealt with his pet rat-man) but still clearly couldn’t stand the thought of being friends with a Slytherin.

It was a childish way of thinking. To be fair, the kid  _ was  _ only eleven. Twelve? He didn’t know when Ron’s birthday was.

“It was entrusted to me by the Dark Lord before you were even born!” Lucius seethed.

Oh, right. He was getting yelled at.

With a sigh, Draco let his eyes wander around the library before going back to Lucius. “Yet you were ready to dump it in the cauldron of a first year? You don’t even know what it’s capable of.” Draco retorted, leaning back in his chair and picking at his nails. “Doesn’t seem very responsible to me. Maybe I was just returning it to its rightful owner.”

Lucius paled. “There were  _ plans _ for that book!”

“Yeah, dumb ones.” Draco moved forward to rest his elbows on the table. “Like I said; you  _ don’t know  _ what that book is used for. Be glad it isn’t in our house anymore!”

For a moment Lucius scrambled for an answer and Draco was certain that hadn’t happened in a long while.

His eyes darted to the side and Draco saw Narcissa speed-walking (which for her was anything faster than a controlled stroll) past the open doors with Snape. She was likely showing him to the entrance hall and wanted to avoid the angry Lucius, but was stopped by his voice.

“Narcissa!”

Narcissa froze and Draco swore he saw her mutter a curse to herself. “Come deal with your son!”

Damn. Draco glanced at Lucius. What a cop out.

“ _ Our  _ son.” She sighed. “Would you please show Severus to the entrance hall?”

Draco perked up. “Actually,” Three sets of eyes snapped to him and he almost regretted speaking. Well, scratch that. Draco never regretted speaking. “Could I speak to both of you for a moment?”

Snape hummed, “I can see myself out.”

He moved to walk away and Draco stood. “No! I meant with you and mother.”

Lucius let out a sound a little too close to relief as Snape’s life flashed before his eyes.

Soon he was seated at the little library table with a nervous Snape and hesitant Narcissa. “Is everything okay? I know your father-”

“It’s nothing about him.” Draco interrupted. “I just… would you be willing to make an oath with me?” They both reared back. “There’s things I want to tell you I just…  _ can’t  _ unless I have a guarantee it won’t get out.”

“‘Things’ like how you knew the Dark Lord resided in Quirrell?” Snape questioned.

Draco nodded and was stunned when Narcissa thrust her arm forward. “Anything.” She whispered. “It hurts that you feel the oath necessary, but I understand. Anything that will let me  _ talk _ to you, son.” Draco was fiercely reminded of the woman who lied to the Dark Lord’s face just to know her son was alive.

He wondered if she would do the same for him.

Narcissa didn’t flinch as Snape acted as the witness for their vow. She looked at him with all the determination of a desperate mother and he realized that yes- she  _ would. _

She deserved to know the truth and not just be used for their goals.

Snape was more hesitant before agreeing and Draco forced himself to remember that Snape was useful and did need to be here. He and Harry may agree they hate the man, but he had a valuable position with both Voldemort and Dumbledore. His information was useful as much as they despised that fact. The potential benefit of his position as a double agent outweighed the chance of him tattling to Dumbledore.

Eventually they sat around the table again, and Draco wasn’t really sure where to start this conversation. He wouldn’t tell them the whole truth. It was pointless for them to know that they existed as words on a page in his world.

“I’m- well,” he started to ring his hands together and paused for a moment. “Harry and I both-”

He saw Snape flinch and Narcissa’s lips twitch into a frown. “Potter?”

Snape’s expression shifted to a sneer and Draco snapped “Stop that!” It worked since Snape looked shocked, but Draco just continued talking, “As if it wasn’t childish enough to pick on a  _ child  _ just because he looks like his dad, it’s worse because James isn’t Harry’s dad!”

There was a stunned silence and Draco tried to backtrack while waving his hands, “No, like, he  _ is  _ technically, but, Harry and I are reincarnated so it’s hard to consider a dad he barely knew above his first dad, you know?”

“Reincarnation?” Narcissa asked with a laugh. “That’s not-”

Draco turned to look Snape directly in the eyes. “You were in love with Lily Evans as a kid and fell apart after you called her a mudblood.” He recited. “You’re like… a quadruple agent or something but you are loyal to Dumbledore and both know that Harry’s a horcrux so you’re raising him for death.” With a sigh Draco finished, “You were the one that told Voldemort the prophecy.  _ The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches?” _

Snape was bone white and stared at Draco mouth agape. “You should have listened to the rest of the prophecy.” Draco hissed.

“That’s enough.” Narcissa’s voice cut through Draco’s rant. She regarded Snape with distrusting eyes, but continued, “I believe you’ve proven your point.” Snape hadn’t denied a single word he said, and it was weighing on Narcissa.

-

This was all a lot to hear, but she wanted to believe he wouldn’t lie about this. Wouldn’t make them take a vow only to lie. It wasn’t as if they could spread the information. “Why… why tell us this now?”

She reached forward, finding Draco’s hand and holding it in her own even with his one attempt to pull away. He was telling her that he wasn’t her son. He could allow her this.

“I need your help.” He looked to Severus first. “Remus Lupin will start teaching at Hogwarts soon. Leave him alone.” Severus moved to speak but Draco interrupted, “No. I don’t care. Whatever happened was probably dumb but you were also  _ kids.  _ If you can’t get past a petty childhood rivalry in order to bring down the Dark Lord then  _ get out.” _

Severus stayed put.

“Bring him down?” Narcissa asked instead. “I thought…”

Draco sighed, and Narcissa wanted nothing more than to throw all of this to the side and embrace her son. She didn’t care if he had lived another life or it wasn’t proper Malfoy behavior. All of that be damned if it made Draco look this…  _ weary. _

“Harry’s not really the Dark Lord.” Draco clicked his tongue and added, “Or  _ any _ Dark Lord. Everything is just coincidence or us fucking around.” Shrugging his shoulders he waved his free hand again. “I mean, he’s a Slytherin, yeah, but he was in our first life too. He can speak to snakes because of the horcrux.”

“Horcrux?” She knew she should ask more questions about what Draco just revealed, but was focused on the part that had been mentioned twice now. Something that meant Harry had to die?

“A horcrux is made when a wizard murders someone and splits off a piece of their soul in the act to seal into an object. It’s how Voldemort survived when the killing curse rebounded.” Narcissa could see where this was going and suddenly wished she was blind. “When Voldemort was, like, disintegrated or whatever, a piece broke off and latched onto Harry. Voldemort can’t be fully killed until all of his horcruxes are.”

“So Harry has to die.”

“Technically, yeah. We figured out if he’s hit by a killing curse it should just kill the horcrux and not him, but we aren’t too eager to test it. That one’s in progress.”

“Horcruxes? Plural?”

“Seven.”

“ _ Seven.” _

Letting out a deep breath Narcissa took a moment to center herself and close her eyes. 

Narcissa Black would do  _ anything  _ for her children. If what Draco said was true and he- he had  _ lived before? _ It didn’t change anything to her.

It would take time to adjust. Time to view Draco as an adult- an  _ equal-  _ and not a child. But it could be done.

Narcissa would do anything to keep her son by her side.

“What do you need me to do?”

\--

Tonks wondered what it said about her that she was genuinely looking forward to a sleepover with 3 kids half her age. Say what you will about her cousin and his friends, they were mature enough to hang with her while still being goofy enough to have fun. 

“Tonks!” 

She stumbled as Draco bowled into her for a hug, and smiled over his shoulder at Harry and Hermione who were waiting patiently where they had come in through the fireplace. 

“Where’s Aunt Andy?” Draco asked as he dusted powder off his baby blue… sun dress? 

“Her and dad are having a date night, so the house is all ours.” 

“Aw sick. We nicked some fireworks from the muggle store and I wanna set them off later.”

Yeah. Tonks was glad her cousin was so cool.

—

This sleepover was such a good idea. Hermione could see the slight tension her boys had been carrying for weeks slowly drain away with each joke Tonks told and each silly activity. She could only imagine how stressful things were getting for them. 

Hermione carefully swiped a line of silver onto her thumb before putting the cap back onto the bottle. She firmly ignored Draco who was flapping his pink nails in an effort to dry them faster. 

“You’re gonna smudge ‘em.” Harry called from his spot painting his toes Slytherin green, his nails a matte black. “You always hit something.”

“No I’m n- fuck!” 

Tonks laughed at Draco’s dismayed expression before whispering a spell to fix his nail polish.

“We could have used magic this whole time?” Draco threw his head back in defeat and motioned towards one of the nail polished set out on the table.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Tonks questioned while lightly tossing the bottle of neon yellow into Draco’s lap.

Draco clicked his tongue and moved to apply the color to his toes. “Fun because I don’t have to panic when I hit my nai- _ fuck!”  _ He swore as he swiped the brush across his skin. “ _ Tonks!” _ He whined before the witch cast another spell. “You’ve got to teach me these, by the way. Definitely don’t learn beauty routines at Hogwarts.”

With a snicker Tonks agreed, “Unfortunately.”

“Speaking of learning-” Draco looked up to where Hermione was silently concentrating on her nails, tongue sticking out the side of her mouth. “Herm, you know how to do eyeliner?”

“What?” Hermione looked up after cautiously completing a line. She looked Draco up and down, “You dress like that and you’re telling me you can’t apply eyeliner?”

Draco groaned, “It’s not like I can just Google it!”

“Not like you can  _ what?!” _

Harry ignored Hermione’s outraged question to add, “Yeah, he never really bothered in our first life. Looked pretty feral most of the time.”

Draco made an offended sound, “That’s  _ rude. _ Can you teach us, Tonks? _ ”  _ He glanced to Tonks who furiously shook her head. “ _ None of us  _ can manage eyeliner?! How are we supposed to do full makeovers? Get the proper sleepover experience?”

With a grin Harry made a show of cracking his knuckles. “This is my time to shine.”

Hermione felt her eyes widen.  _ Harry  _ was the only one of them that could apply makeup?

Hermione wasn’t really sure what classified as trendy makeup- she always made a point of avoiding any magazines in her parents’ office- but she was certain this wasn’t modern. It didn’t look bad by any means, but between the winged eyeliner from Harry and the bright red lipstick from Draco she was pretty sure it was more reminiscent of their first lives.

“Can’t wait for better palettes to come out.” Harry had muttered while pressing a vibrant eyeshadow onto her eye.

It was still strange to think about how they weren’t really her age. They got along so well that it was a shock every time she remembered.

“How old were you when you died?” She found herself asking, once Tonks was out of earshot.

Harry paused in his application with a jerky motion before resuming as if nothing happened. “I was twenty-three.” He pressed against Hermione’s eye with a touch too much force earning a wince. After a quick apology he added, “Draco- Ariel was twenty-four. Three months older than I was.”

“You were young.” She didn’t really know what else to say. “I- what happened? If you don’t mind me asking?”

She assumed Harry glanced to see Tonks still preoccupied. “Car crash. We were going to Taco Bell.” He let out a breath in some imitation of a laugh. “Lost our lives over a taco, can you imagine?”

Hermione pressed her tongue to the inside of her cheek to prevent herself from asking something else stupid.

“I really don’t mind if you ask.” Harry confessed. “You know how I died now so feel free to ask anything else. I’m sure Draco wouldn’t mind either. It’s actually kind of nice to be able to talk about it for once.”

“Draco’s name was Ariel?”

Harry tapped her chin so she would open her eyes and he carefully examined his work. “Ariel Jones. My name was Rose Agreste.” He saw Hermione’s look and laughed, “Yes, I was born in France. Near Nice.  _ Salut, madame.” _

This time Hermione laughed and she was glad Harry had already moved away from her face. “Was Draco from France?”

“No, we met when I moved to America. Ended up going to college and getting an apartment together.”

“You two really are like soulmates, huh?”

Harry turned towards where Draco was slapping another random color onto Tonks and Hermione found herself almost envious of the adoration in his eyes. “Yeah, you could say that.”

It was another few hours until Tonks left them to their own devices long enough for Hermione to scoot closer to the two boys. “So, while we have a minute, I wanted to talk to you.”

They both shifted to better face her. “You guys gave me that basilisk fang and that’s great, but I was thinking, are there other ways to destroy horcruxes? Like, does  _ any  _ spell work?”

“I heard fiendfyre works pretty well.” All three snapped their attention to where Tonks walked in the doorway with a bowl of popcorn in one hand and a few sodas balanced in her arms. She plopped onto the sofa between Harry and Draco, seemingly unaware of the tension in the room. “So, what movie did you guys wanna watch?”

Frantically waving her hands at Draco, Hermione practically hissed. “Did you tell her?”

“No!” He shuffled to avoid her flailing hands. “Harry didn’t either!”

Hermione opened her mouth in a silent scream but looked to see Harry leaning behind Tonks to share the same flabbergasted expression.

Tonks turned around to join their little secret huddle and grinned, “What’s the fuss?”

\--

Remus sighed as he settled deeper into his conjured chair. He could see Harry and Sirius wrestling in the sand and knew he’d be spelling their swimsuits clean later. This vacation to Spain was a good idea. Gibraltar’s beaches were stunning and most importantly- they were warm. Sirius deserved some warmth after his stint in Azkaban.

Unfolding the copy of the Prophet he had bought on the way, Remus frowned. Quirrell, a man on the run from the ministry, had been found dead in America. His body led them to believe it was overuse from a spirit possession, and it led to all sorts of theories.

To Remus there was no question. Harry said it was Voldemort, so it was Voldemort.

Most in the ministry weren’t so inclined to believe that one.

That was fine, as far as he was concerned. They would know the truth soon and either way Remus would stand by Harry and Sirius.

Part of him wanted to join the two on the beach, but his body still ached from the full moon the previous night. He had spent it with Sirius again and forgot just how much he missed those nights.

Relaxing with the marauders in animal form was almost enough to make the transformations worth it. He would give anything to have that back.

He had just sighed at dinner the previous night when Harry insisted Sirius coach him through the animagus transformation until the man relented. Remus had stayed silent on that issue.

Harry was nothing if not capable. If they had managed to do it at thirteen, he had no doubt Harry could with an adult nearby. Much less risk in being stuck in a partial transformation that way.

Truthfully, Remus had quite a few plans relating to teaching Harry. This upcoming war wouldn’t be kind to them, and Harry had to be prepared. He was at the center of it all due to that damned attack.

They would begin work on the patronus when they arrived back home. He didn’t expect Harry to master it for quite some time, but it was essential to have when the Dark Lord had been known to work with dementors.

Perhaps he should ask Harry if Draco and Hermione wanted to join the lessons as well.

-

Harry let out a battle cry as he managed to knock Sirius into the incoming waves. The man squaked and went under for a few moments drawing a full laugh from Harry.

As soon as he rose from the water with a glare, Harry swore and took off down the beach. It was incredible to be this carefree with his family.

He forced himself not to think about the horcrux sitting in his room or the way he could still feel it’s aura calling to him. Draco had been hesitant about even handling the book beyond passing it to Harry. They had no way to know if they were immune to whatever compulsions Tom had placed on the thing.

Regardless, he knew something had to be done. Once Sirius was exhausted and Harry was covered head to toe in sand, the trio managed to get back to their room. Remus, being clean and exhausted, immediately collapsed onto a bed while Sirius sprinted to the shower before Harry could take even a single step.

With both adults occupied, Harry stepped out of the room to the balcony and sat in the chair. With legs crossed and glitter pen in hand (because what else would make the same kind of first impression) Harry opened the diary once more.

_ Hello. My name is Rose Agreste _

There was a pause where the words sank into the page and Harry bit the end of his pen.

_ Nice to meet you, Rose. My name is Tom Riddle. _

Jackpot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry: Quirinus Quirrell has been found dead in Miami  
> Draco: Is he okay?  
> Harry: He's alright but he died


	11. Take 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aka Harry and Draco are stunned by the fact that resolving nearly every issue in first year leads to a normal school experience.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey @ everyone who has left comments pls know you're the best and honestly I laugh at almost every comment y'all are comedic and it's great
> 
> Thank you for everything

The start of second year came all too soon for Draco. He was always glad for the time away from Lucius, but it was harder to hunt horcruxes from the school.

They had made quite an indent on those though. Narcissa had full access to the Lestrange vault per Bellatrix’s will, and her incarceration made it all too easy for the witch to slip in and grab the cup.

They now had the locket, the diadem, the diary, the cup, and the fragment in Harry that they were no closer to figuring out. All in all, it felt like a successful summer to Draco.

Since Quirrell had been confirmed dead- and reports said it looked like he had been dead for months- they didn’t need to worry about horcruxes moving. Voldemort hadn’t been able to obtain any kind of functional body until fifth year and they were pretty sure that wouldn’t change so easily.

Even the trip to Diagon Alley was calmer than in canon since Draco and Harry had gone an extra day early to avoid the Lockhart scene. They hadn’t really had a chance to talk since the sleepover, however, so Draco was quick to drag Harry into an open compartment and throw up a privacy ward.

“Nice job on getting the cup.” Was the first thing Harry said as he pulled out a familiar sleek diary. “Went with the seer line approach?”

When Draco frowned in confusion and at that Harry mirrored the expression. “Seer approach? With what?”

“How you convinced them you knew what was going to happen? Isn’t that what you told Snape and Narcissa?”

Draco paled as the implication sunk in. “You mean I wasn’t supposed to tell them I was reincarnated?” Harry gave a sharp inhale and Draco tried to recover, “You said not to tell them the whole truth! I didn’t! I said we were reincarnated, not that Harry Potter was a book series!”

Harry buried his head in his hands and screamed. “That was the _wrong secret!”_ He flinched at Harry’s sharp tone. “Dude, don’t you read fanfic? You tell them you’re a seer since that probably runs in the Malfoy line _somewhere_ and hide that you’re reincarnated! The lesser secret!”

Throwing his hands up in exasperation Draco retorted, “I don’t know man! Reincarnation versus Your Whole Existence Is Some White Lady’s Fever Dream makes reincarnation seem like the lesser secret!”

“ _Wrong secret!”_

“Well fuck.” 

\--

The sorting ceremony was surprisingly less exciting from the other side of the table.

Hermione leaned against Neville next to her and yawned. “Late night?” He asked even as Harry reached across the table to fill her cup with the coffee that was out. Thank god they provided drinks during the ceremony.

“Yeah, I think I found a lead to a book I’ve been looking for for Harry and Draco.” She answered while suppressing another yawn.

Neville laughed and patted Hermione’s back as she brought the cup to her lips immediately. “What book is it?”

Pulling back from the coffee as it burnt her tongue Hermione replied, “ _Link Between Life and Death_. Apparently every scholar thinks it’s a joke so I can’t find it anywhere.”

Harry and Draco both sent her apologetic smiles before returning to their argument over if dogs or cats make better pets.

“Oh.” Neville tapped the table a few times before remembering, “By Silvia Falman? I think we have a copy of that in the Longbottom manor.”

Hermione reared back to fully face Neville. “What.”

He flinched at her expression- or lack thereof. “Yeah, I remember grandmother Enid buying it because she thought it was funny.”

“Neville?”

“Yes?”

“Get me that book.”

“Yes ma’am.”

As it turned out, Neville wouldn’t be able to get the novel for a few months. His grandmother was out of town for a while but promised to send it as soon as she returned.

Hermione was both thrilled and frustrated at how much work she had put into finding the book.

What she was _really_ frustrated at was their new defense teacher. Harry had gotten her hopes up by informing Hermione that Remus had been offered the position, but the werewolf wanted more time to recover and help Sirius. Didn’t want the man alone in that house for an entire school year already.

In fact, she was pretty sure the two had left for Italy as soon as Harry boarded the train.

Either way, compared to Remus, Lockhart was the definition of disappointing. Also daft. Also _annoying_. Listening to the man preach about himself (because the whole hall could hear him from the staff table) throughout dinner made Hermione seriously question her morals as her grip slowly tightened on her fork.

She couldn’t believe she ever liked his books!

Draco had told her of the events from their world, where the basilisk had been controlled and Lockhart obliviated himself. Hermione told Harry she wished he hadn’t befriended the basilisk.

Being petrified would totally be worth it to avoid the hell that was sure to be his class for an entire year.

“I have a plan.” Draco had assured her when they walked towards their dorms. “Trust me!”

Hermione did not.

Luckily, she wasn’t forced to suffer through one of Lockhart’s classes until Thursday. She was just grateful she wasn’t any earlier in the week and therefore wasn’t the test class that had cornish pixies unleashed upon them.

Harry’s hair had been matted for days.

They had immediately reformed the DA, and Draco and Harry got to work teaching the students new spells. The club now numbered at twenty since last year had gone so well, and Harry and Draco were thriving. They were both amazing teachers, and Hermione almost didn’t want to ask where they were learning the spells they taught.

On Thursday, the unholiest of days, Hermione groaned as she entered her defense class and quickly grabbed the seat next to Draco.

Draco chuckled and leaned towards Hermione. “Think if you hit me with a cruciatus we’ll get to leave class now?” He whispered with a tone she could only describe as conspiratorial.

Rearing back despite her laugh Hermione asked, “Cruciatus? Why not something tamer?”

Leveling her with the most deadpan expression he could muster Draco replied, “Nothing can compare to the pain I’m in now.”

A laugh left Hermione and she moved her hand to cover her mouth as Susan whipped around with narrowed eyes. “Let me be the one to cast. I’ll take Azkaban over this.”

“I don’t get why you guys hate Lockhart so much!” Hannah declared. “He’s not that bad!”

It was then that Lockhart made his grand entrance and began preaching to the class about all the adventures he had been on. Between the pop quiz all about his life and the lecture Hermione was certain that the only thing she learned was how much she hated the man.

“Okay,” Hannah admitted with a defeated sigh as soon as Lockhart turned away. “He is that bad.”

Draco sniffed. “Wait until my father hears about this.” Hermione raised a brow at his tone until he dropped the act and elaborated, “Really, he’s on the board of directors.”

Hermione wasn’t sure she had ever been happier her friend was a Malfoy.

\--

Harry and Draco found that with the freedom of being a second year they loved bringing their brooms down to the pitch for the sole purpose of messing around. A common game was “Bet You Can’t Catch This Egg Before It Hits The Ground”.

It was the second weekend since classes had started that they were confronted as they landed.

“You’re incredible!” An older Slytherin that Harry _definitely_ forgot the name of called as she sprinted towards them. “You’ve got to join the team! Our seeker just graduated and you have, like, perfect form!”

Harry tensed and dismounted the broom. He most certainly _didn’t_ have perfect form. Rose Agreste never had an athletic bone in her body and that was certainly true in this life too.

“Uh, no, really-”

“Malfoy! That was amazing!”

Harry and Draco made concerned eye contact as a Hufflepuff joined them and gave the same speech.

“I-” Draco grinned. “I’d love to, but I’m kind of busy, you know? Being the friend of the boy-who-lived is a full-time career.”

Rolling his eyes, Harry slapped Draco’s arm. “Nah, it’s just that he’s deathly terrified of competition. Horrible stage fright.”

Harry was certain they were trying to recruit them for the publicity of it all, not their ability, but neither were interested in getting injured playing sports when they could do that hunting horcruxes instead.

“Thanks for the offer!” Harry called once again as the two booked it into the castle.

“Damn,” Draco began as the two entered the Ravenclaw common room (really, riddles weren’t a very secure password) and settled down to wait for Hermione’s class to end. “I didn’t realize that Quidditch was like Wizarding football. These kids go nuts.”

Harry snorted, “I would hate to see wizarding fans after their team loses.” He pulled the familiar notebook from his bag. “Didn’t your neighbors set their couch on fire in the street once?”

“ _Superbowls.”_ Draco groaned. “Don’t remind me.”

With a laugh Harry focused his attention on the book before Draco commented, “You’ve been spending a lot of time with the book. He try anything?”

“Oh, he tried.” Harry acknowledged. “Tried pulling me into a few memories but apparently if I just say ‘no’ he has no power.” He tapped his pen against the page as he spoke. “He’s not just a pretty face though. _Super_ smart if I’m being honest. He’s been teaching me shit- probably as a manipulation game.”

“That obvious?” Draco raised a brow. “I expected better honestly.”

“I think he’s used to his face doing all the work. Hasn’t been too subtle. I mean, from day one he used my first name. No one in this time automatically does that. I’m supposed to think someone from the forties does?” Harry shook his head. “He’s trying to make it seem like we’re close-even establish a mentor bond at this point.”

“You’re gonna teach me everything you know, right?”

Harry grinned, “Duh. Some pretty nasty hexes too.” He wrote a reply to the paper and asked, “How fucking stoked you think he’d be if I admitted I spoke parseltongue?”

Draco laughed, “Probably like Lucius the first time you came over.”

A devious grin crossed Harry’s expression. “Nice.” And his pen returned to scribbling.

\--

Somehow, Draco managed to avoid the conversation with Narcissa until winter break. They exchanged letters throughout the year, but they were unusually brief and awkward. Almost formal.

Draco could understand that since the news of his reincarnation must be shocking.

His mother clearly wasn’t sure how to approach their changed relationship. It would be nearly impossible to continue as if nothing had happened, but equally so for Draco to suddenly be her equal. Their relationship dynamic was a mess and Draco was dreading having that talk.

But, the day before Yule, Narcissa finally cornered him in one of the meeting rooms with two cups of tea in hand.

“Do you have a moment?” She asked while sliding one drink across the table towards him.

Draco nodded while taking a small sip. It was overloaded with sugar, just how he liked it. “Of course.”

Narcissa took a deep breath. “No issues at school so far I assume?”

“No. Lockhart’s a disaster but I already told you and Lucius about him.” Draco used a finger to trace around the rim of the mug while eyeing the way Narcissa brought the drink to her lips again. Something told him it wasn’t quite as mild as his.

“I held you as a child.”

He pretended not to hear the way her voice cracked. “I- I might be mentally older than you.”

Narcissa blew out a breath. “How old were you?”

“Twenty-four.”

“I never noticed.” Her grip on the mug tightened to the point Draco thought it might shatter under the pressure. “I raised you for twelve years and never noticed something was wrong.” Eyes suddenly wide she looked to Draco again. “You’re _thirty-six.”_

Draco nodded, not really sure how to put the maelstrom of thoughts in his head into words. “I- you did the best you could, considering how terrible of a child I was.”

“No wonder you never listened to your father’s teachings.” Narcissa mused. “Were you a…?”

“A muggle? Yeah. Never knew anything magical existed until I died.”

Narcissa took a moment to collect herself and wipe at the tear in her eye. “I’m so sorry.”

Draco was shocked at that. “For what?” He could understand to an extent. Narcissa felt like she should have noticed. Maybe that she should have helped her son cope from a younger age. Reincarnation isn’t exactly something he would expect her to guess. He was the one that never brought it up sooner. “You were a good mother, especially with having to work around Lucius.”

The look Narcissa gave him was the one he only knew from long arguments at the dinner table. “You’re still my son.”

For a second Draco wasn’t sure if he would be able to speak. He started chewing on his lower lip and his eyes filled with tears. “I-” His vision was blurry, and he wiped his eyes until they were red and swollen.

“I don’t care what you may have done in a past life.” Narcissa assured. “You will _always_ be my son, and I will _always_ be here for you.”

A sob escaped him as Draco threw himself around the table and into her open arms.

\--

Winter break was shockingly uneventful for Harry. Remus and Sirius returned from their vacation in time to pick him up from the train, and Harry could almost cry at how much _better_ Sirius looked.

He was still getting somewhat hesitant looks from everyone on the platform, but he seemed much more used to them. That may not be a _good_ thing, but at least he wasn’t panicking like at the end of Harry’s first year.

Harry spent Yule at Grimmauld and truthfully relished being able to start their own traditions, including lighting the first Yule log which would hopefully be the start of a long chain.

The next day he attended the Malfoy family gala again, but this time they managed to refrain from cursing any werewolves. Fenrir had approached them once, but Remus had noticed and immediately and quite literally carried Harry and Draco away from the confrontation. Fenrir had laughed as they were dragged away, and it was only when Remus tensed that Harry remembered Fenrir was the one that cursed him.

Really put a damper on the whole ‘use the Dark Lord’s forces against him’ thing. Harry would just have to wait until they could reveal the entire truth to Remus. Maybe then he would understand.

Harry and Draco had gone to Hermione’s the next day and were delighted to find Neville and Hannah there as well. Blaise was out of town and Susan was busy with her aunt, but it was fun to celebrate with their expanding group.

Keeping good on his promise, Harry passed along the lessons from Tom to Draco during the rest of winter break and even a few to Hermione. He wasn’t sure he wanted to admit just how dark some of the spells he learned were, but a few would be useful for the second year witch.

Soon enough break had ended and Harry was dreading having to return. It would be different if his defense teacher wasn’t Lockhart. Really, one teacher had the capability to ruin the entire experience… and it was a _magic_ school.

It didn’t help that his best subject was defense and he really didn’t want his grade to suffer.

Harry wasn’t sure he had ever been happier than when it was announced that Lockhart was under investigation. He was sure it was Lucius’ doing, and for the first time Harry felt like he should thank the man.

Still, they continued to hold DA meetings every other week and it was just another excuse for Harry to convince Tom to teach him more spells.

 _Have I ever told you of the Chamber of Secrets?_ The book asked one night when Harry suggested moving on to purely defensive spells for a while.

_Many times, and each time I tell you I’ve already met Salal._

Harry remembered the first time he had informed Tom of this fact. The book had _lost it,_ probably since Agreste definitely wasn’t a common wizarding name and yet Rose had somehow managed to _talk_ to Slytherin’s beast.

But nearly every time they talked the diary would bring up the chamber or the basilisk. Harry was sure it was some way of activation compulsions placed on the book. Maybe he had to convince Harry to be part of a memory before he could steal his life force? Harry wasn’t sure, but he declined every invitation and loved reminding Tom that a half-blood like him (and really, what a hypocrite) had discovered the chamber first year.

_Yes, but have you discovered the other secrets? I believe what lies in the chamber could help you greatly. Will you allow me to show you?_

_Nah._

Harry closed the book with a solid ‘thwack’. What else could even be in the chamber? Was there another section, or was Tom just making this up in an effort to convince Harry?

Well, only one way to find out.

He hopped from his bed and grabbed the invisibility cloak before wandering towards the bathroom. It was well after curfew, but, like normal, that wasn’t exactly a concern. Sometimes he wondered just why Dumbledore would give _any_ student a hall pass like this.

Harry entered the chamber and greeted Salal like normal. _“Is there a section of the chamber I have not visited?”_

The snake curled around Harry in her typical manner. _“The pipes?”_

He sighed. “ _No, besides the pipes.”_

 _“The library.”_ She unwound and began to retreat through the still open mouth of the Salazar statue. _“Follow.”_

Harry knew he would regret teaching Hermione how to mimic a few parseltongue words once he saw the massive library that was behind the entrance. It probably rivaled the Hogwarts library, and Harry knew just by glancing at a few titles that these were a _lot_ darker than anything he would find upstairs.

The actual layout was similar, and it was shockingly well lit for being in a secret underground cavern.

 _“Thank you, Salal.”_ Harry said before he left the chamber, at least seven new novels stuffed in his bag. _“I may have a friend visiting soon. I request you keep your eyes non-lethal.”_

Salal moved her head in a nod and curled back up most likely to sleep. _“But you owe me another meal, little one.”_ Harry had a brief vision of Lockhart and wished he could just throw the man in and be done with it.

_“Of course.”_

_\--_

Lockhart was fired two weeks before exams started.

Harry was ecstatic, but wanted to scream when Dumbledore informed them McGonagall would supervise classes until then and exams would continue as expected.

Suddenly, a wave of fifth and even seventh years began attending the DA meetings. They were bumped up to twice a week in an effort to cram before exams, and the poor years with OWLS and NEWTS were often found in the classrooms between meetings.

Harry did his best to help them, but discovered a support system in the form of Cedric Diggory. He was currently a fifth year and since he had extensive knowledge of the fifth year material, he was able to lead the group in reviews.

Yeah, Harry could see why he was chosen as champion.

The seventh years were more of a mess, but eventually Harry appointed a Gryffindor by the name of Chris to lead them.

Then he was an asshole and Harry quickly replaced him with a Slytherin named Rebecca. She was much fairer when it came to the practice tests they did and a much better leader overall.

When exams rolled around the castle was a mess.

Throughout the two weeks it wasn’t uncommon to see students sleeping in alcoves or on public benches. It became an unspoken rule even among the staff not to disturb those students. They were trying to study for normal exams and cram an entire year of defense in.

Harry had heard McGonagall suggest an additional summer class for the seventh years that completely missed out on a final year of education. At least Quirrell had given them the right textbooks.

Eventually exams were over and the halls seemed to breathe a sigh of relief.

“I hate this year.” Hermione muttered while sitting at the Slytherin table and practically falling asleep on Blaise’s arm. The boy tried to push her upright even as she spoke. “I pray exams are never this bad again. Please, Merlin, let us have one decent defense professor next year. I feel like I’m going to pass out.”

Draco laughed into his bread roll, still giddy with the excitement of winning this year’s point war. He spent half his time complimenting Lockhart and the man just drowned him in points. Combine that with the fact that mentioning Lockhart around Snape had the opposite impact, and Draco had points nearly in the thousands.

“Don’t worry,” Harry reached over to pat her arm as Blaise finally shoved Hermione to a sitting position. The girl promptly fell to the other side and onto Harry. “Remus said he agreed to teach next year. Sirius might even be visiting, just, you know, as a dog.”

Hermione just hummed in response and Harry looked down to see she was already halfway to sleep on his shoulder.

“How am I supposed to pack?” He asked Draco, motioning with the hand on his other side to the sleeping Hermione.

Draco shrugged in what was probably his least helpful response yet. “I don’t know, sounds like a you problem.”

“You bastard.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it! That's second year babey! There are Plans for summer and next year, but second year was pretty uneventful for the kids. They deserve a break tbh.


	12. Take 12

Tom Marvolo Riddle was nothing if not patient. He couldn’t speak for the rest of him, but residing in a book for decades was a pretty good indicator in his opinion.

It wasn’t an issue. Some of the most carefully laid plans required time.

Time was something he was only vaguely aware of. He could sense the passage of time for all it mattered, but nothing beyond that. It was as if he was stuck in a dream, only partially aware of whatever occurred beyond his paper home.

He knew there were plans. Soon an eager first year would discover the journal and write to him. It would be so easy to manipulate and charm the poor child into doing his bidding. Soon the basilisk would be released and his efforts could resume. Soon he would be _free_ from this prison.

Then he met Rose.

_Hello. My name is Rose Agreste._

She was perfect- in theory. A muggleborn, or a half-blood at least judging by the glittery pen she wrote with. The perfect tool to bring others to heel. He would have no issue using her life to restore his own.

The way she wrote should have been his first clue. It was obvious when he looked back. She hadn’t written like someone who had just gotten a blank diary. She had spoken to him immediately.

_Nice to meet you Rose. My name is Tom Riddle._

There wasn’t as much of a pause as he anticipated. No confusion or worry.

 _Tell me, Tom,_ There had been a silence for a moment before she continued with a slower hand. _Do you know anything of the Chamber of Secrets?_

It was too perfect. Too good to be true. That should have been his second clue.

How was he to connect the dots? To realize that no school taught about the Chamber of Secrets? It was a secret well kept, and further brushed under the rug after that girl had been killed.

_Yes. It was opened when I attended school. Would you allow me to show you what I know?_

He prepared then. His metaphorical body coiling in anticipation of the lunge. After expecting more of a hunt, he was almost disappointed at how quickly his prey fell.

_No thanks._

Tom was certain even the book sagged to reflect his shift in mood.

_I’ve already been there. Lovely place, if a bit chilly._

Dumbfounded, he wasn’t able to form a response. Was this girl a parselmouth? Was there public access to the chamber? How had she been able to get in?

 _Pretty much everyone knows about it._ She wrote when Tom couldn’t. _I was just curious since this book looks pretty old._

_There’s no way you could access the chamber._

She was _lying_ to him, and he had no idea how or why. This girl was just some mudblood, how would she be able to resist the spells placed on the journal?

_Huh._

That was all he got before the book snapped shut and his figurative world went dark.

Rose wrote to him at least once a week following this. Every time he would direct her towards the chamber, use just a thread of magic to convince her-

And the diary would close.

It was nearly two months before he realized that his plan _wouldn’t work._ But that was fine.

Tom wasn’t entirely reliant on his magic. He was a Slytherin for a reason. Manipulating this child wouldn’t be a challenge. A witch like this desired knowledge and power. Tom could grant that. He would train her- teach her spells. She would trust him, and Tom would have his vessel.

Three months later Rose told him she was a parselmouth.

 _Prove it._ He immediately replied with words that were just a touch too shaky.

 _How do you expect me to do that?_ Tom _hated_ that he didn’t need to see her to know of her amusement. _Unless there’s some secret parseltongue writing I don’t know about._

_Meet me. Allow me to show you a memory and speak to me._

_Damn. At least buy me dinner first._

Tom could have screamed when the book shut once more.

 _You insufferable child!_ Despite the closed pages he continued to rant into his own thoughts.

When the time came he would _enjoy_ killing this girl. It would be anything but quick and painless.

Then he remembered what she said. If she was a parselmouth-

He couldn’t kill her.

They would be kin in some twisted way. Only the descendants of Slytherin possessed the speech and he had ensured nothing remained of the Gaunt family besides himself. Had _he_ had a child?

Tom suddenly wished there was some way to communicate with his other self.

Parselmouth or not the girl was smart. There was no denying that. She had managed to avoid Tom’s questions and shake off any magic easily. As much as he hated to admit it, the girl was _interesting_ and-

Did she just put a _sticker_ on him?

\--

Aside from spending a few nights at the Malfoy’s for Draco’s birthday, Harry was content to spend the next chunk of summer lounging around the house with Remus and Sirius. They had debated going on a vacation again but Harry expressed his interest in staying home to study instead.

Sirius was all too happy to share his knowledge of spells that were most definitely intended for pranks. Remus, on the other hand, took great pride in walking Harry through subjects like runes and arithmancy to prepare for his third year.

Harry still wasn’t sure what electives he wanted to take. Care of magical creatures was a guarantee since Harry could never turn down an opportunity to meet more animals. He was perfectly fine avoiding divination if possible. Didn’t feel too excited to have his death constantly foretold.

Muggle studies would also be pretty useless since he had grown up in the muggle world twice. The class would probably only make him frustrated.

That left runes and arithmancy. He was hesitant to give himself too heavy of a workload, but also hated the thought of missing any information. The chance to attend a magic school didn’t come around too often.

Harry resigned himself to the workload of three electives and made a note to send a letter to his friends with the information.

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with that Hermione girl.” Sirius commented one night as dinner was ending. Remus only sighed and Harry looked at them both with suspicion. 

“Y-yes?”

Remus smiled in a way that was far too gentle. “You must really like her.”

“Well, yeah,” Harry furrowed his brow. “I love Hermione. She’s great.”

“That’s great, Harry! You know, your dad was your age when he fell for your mum!” Sirius exclaimed with a grin.

Harry, quickly realizing what they thought of his statement, tried to backtrack. “Wait, no, like, I love her in a _platonic_ way. She’s like my sister.”

Leaning over to pat Harry’s arm Remus commented, “Hey, it’s alright. It’s totally natural that you’d be spending more time with girls at your age. We just want to talk about some things with you.”

He gave a pointed look to Sirius and the man jumped in. “Yeah, we just want you to be safe.”

Sirius said a few more words but Harry was too busy mentally blue-screening to process them. Were… were they trying to give him the _talk?_ Harry was certain that if they made him sit through that he would physically die. From _Sirius_ of all people…

“I’m gay!” Harry blurted as soon as he heard the word ‘intimacy’ leave Sirius. “I’m gay! So this _really_ isn’t necessary!”

Remus just gave him another soft smile as Sirius declared, “Sweet! Me too!”

For a moment Harry was sure he had avoided this confrontation. You know, like a fool. “But there’s still things we need to talk about!”

Somehow the thought of hearing the Gay Talk was worse than the hetero version.

“God, please, no.”

“It’s okay! I get that it’s weird to talk about these things-” Harry was actually concerned about how at ease Sirius was during this “-but it’s important for you to stay safe in the future.”

Sending a pleading look to Remus was useless as the man just returned his look with that _same damn smile._ He frantically searched for some kind of excuse. “I’ve gotten this talk before I promise you don’t have to-”

“There’s a lot of misinformation out there.”

“I’m really not even interested in anyone so you don’t need to worry-”

“That doesn’t mean you won’t be in the future.”

“I might be asexual-”

“And I support that but it doesn’t hurt to know-”

“I am a _thirty-five_ year old woman and if you even _think_ about continuing this talk I will _move out.”_ He spoke with an authority that managed to grab their attention.

Remus was the one that finally questioned, “You’re a _what?”_

Harry took a deep breath. This wasn’t how he wanted to start this conversation. “I’m thirty-five.”

Sirius let out a pained sound and Remus looked too confused to ask anything else.

“Draco and I- we- were reincarnated. We already lived a life together.”

“Pup, you don’t need to make up such an elaborate story to get out of the sex talk.” Sirius laughed.

Harry snapped out, “How do you think I knew to get you out of Azkaban?” That stopped his laughter pretty quick. “I knew you were innocent and I knew Peter was disguised as Ron’s rat.” Harry huffed and sank in his chair a bit. “Why do you think I stressed meeting Remus? I already _know_ you.”

Sirius frowned and moved to most likely scold Harry again until Remus interrupted, “Harry, you-”

But, recognizing Remus’ condescending adult look and _not_ wanting to deal with that, Harry slammed his hands onto the table. “Pensieve.” He glanced between the two newly-stunned men. “You have one right?”

“There’s one in the study, but-”

Despite not knowing exactly where that room was, Harry stood and began to walk from the room. “I’ll show you.”

“You’ll _what?”_ Sirius questioned.

Harry turned to face him and motioned for the two to stand. “I’ll need someone else to do the actual spell since I don’t know it, but I’ll show you memories from my past life.”

There was silence as Sirius brushed past Harry to lead the way. Remus placed a hand on Harry’s shoulder for support as they made the short walk.

It was a challenge for Harry to find a suitable memory. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to show them that Harry Potter was a book character, but he had to prove that this life was _his._

Remus muttered a few words after confirming with Harry and the glowing strand was soon settled into the pensieve. As much as he didn’t want to relive this life, he knew he should be there to make sure it went right.

 _Rose slammed a book shut and leaned back in her shitty cafeteria chair with a groan. “Dude, why is US history so_ boring?”

_From across the table Ariel snorted. “Because you have a shitty teacher.” She pointed out, filling in another question on her worksheet._

_“Fair.” Rose raised her hands to stretch above her head. “But, also, like, fuck white colonists.”_

_Ariel let out a laugh. “Please tell me you’re gonna write your policy paper on how we should eat the rich.”_

_With an approving nod Rose responded, “Might as well!” she moved her textbook to the side to grab for her cellphone. “It’s 2015. No one should have eight mansions while others starve.”_

_Ariel disregarded Rose’s passionate ranting to wave eagerly to another student passing their table. “Yo, MJ, you finish the stats worksheet?”_

_Their friend let out a pained noise. “No, dude. Who do you think I am?”_

_With a groan Ariel collapsed forward to lay her forehead on the table. “Fuck high-school.”_

_Rose laughed and tapped on her phone before sliding the homework to her side. “I’ll just Google it.”_

\--

Remus… didn’t quite know how to react.

It was a small and inconsequential memory. But, unless Harry had become a master at memory manipulation, it was _his._ Hers? Harry had been a high-school student already?

This was almost too much for him to handle.

“I’m sorry.” Harry whispered, and with that tone it was hard to see him as anything other than the twelve-year old he was. “I didn’t want to tell you like this-”

Remus moved to pull Harry into a hug and interrupt his speech. “But you _told us,_ pup.” He spoke into Harry’s hair that never failed to remind him of James.

But Harry wasn’t James. Was barely even his son, really. Harry had his own parents, friends, family...

“You aren’t mad?” That question was directed more towards Sirius who was still by the pensieve, leaning on it for support.

His attention snapped to Harry as he frowned briefly. “Of course I’m not _mad._ ” He approached slower than Remus had as if the boy still wrapped in Remus’ arms was a wild deer. “It’s not your fault you were reincarnated.”

Harry let out a distressed sound, pulling away from Remus and practically sprinting the few steps into Sirius’ open arms. “I hope this doesn’t mean you wanna move out, though.”

“I’m still twelve.” Harry muttered. “Just don’t try giving me the talk again.”

Sirius yelped and held Harry back at arms length. “I swear on my life.” Then Sirius was pulling Harry back against him with desperation. “But you’re still my pup, and that won’t be changing.”

For his own benefit Remus pretended not to see Harry’s nose scrunch as if to fight back tears. “It’ll take time to adjust, but you’re still family.” Remus moved to run a hand through Harry’s hair. “You’re more than just the son of James and Lily to us, Harry. We’ll love you either way.”

A moment passed where all three were content to just _be_ with each other. “In the meantime…” Remus began with a mischievous smile, “Why don’t we start that animagus training you asked about?”

-

Remus had relented when Harry asked if Hermione and Draco could join, and keeping a leaf under their tongues for a month was probably the hardest thing they’ve done. It didn’t taste great, and Draco seemed to have the hardest time not talking as much for a month.

But they all managed to last the month, and they got incredibly lucky when the weather conditions were perfect for the potion. Apparently if there were clouds and the moon was too dim they would have to start the process all over.

Thank Merlin they had good weather.

The weather continued to work in their favor. They only had to wait three weeks for a proper storm. It was perfect timing since Harry was going mad repeating the weird chant every day.

Then they slammed the potions and… nothing happened.

It was incredibly anti-climatic and Sirius laughed at their annoyance.

“We worked for two months for nothing?!” Draco cried, throwing his hands up in frustration. Hermione let out a whine and fell to sit on the still damp grass. A spell courtesy of Remus prevented the rain from hitting them at least.

“You still have to initiate the first change.” Remus called helpfully from the door when Sirius just continued laughing.

“Huh.” Hermione contemplated. “I thought the potion would force the first change.”

“Don’t let him embarrass you.” Remus added, “They thought the same thing until Sirius turned into a dog in the middle of the common room.”

Harry snickered, “Better than James turning into a stag.”

“Alright, let’s go.” Sirius grinned and shifted seamlessly into the form of a dog, standing in front of Harry and bouncing on his paws.

Remus sighed, “Sirius usually describes it as just imagining the change and pushing your magic towards it. Like a wandless spell.”

All three were experienced in that area and nodded. “Should we take turns?” Harry suggested.

“Might be best in case someone… gets stuck.” Hermione flinched but then joined Harry in looking towards Draco expectantly.

“Shit, okay.” He muttered, moving to stand a few feet away from the others. Sirius barked in encouragement and Draco flashed a grin before closing his eyes and scrunching up his nose in concentration.

It only took a few moments before he seemed to melt into another form. Harry was still amazed by the ease of the spell. There were no flashing lights or writhing limbs. Just one step into a new skin.

Or feathers in Draco’s case.

He stood nearly as tall as Harry’s chest and for a moment Harry was stuck in awe at the sight of the harpy eagle. Then Draco tripped over his own feet and Hermione was quick to laugh with Harry.

The bird squawked in an offended tone and Hermione rushed out an apology before pushing Harry forward to go next.

To Harry the sensation of changing forms was one of falling. Probably because when he opened his eyes he found himself pressed against the ground. Or, part of him. The slow realization and movement of his body was awkward, but soon Harry lifted his head to look towards the others- and oh god he couldn’t see color?

Then he saw Hermione’s mouth moving but no sound clearly reaching him. He tried to speak, somehow producing the familiar sounds of parseltongue but hearing no response. Twisting his body to see the familiar pattern of an inland taipan he came to the slow conclusion.

Oh. Snakes were deaf. _He_ was deaf.

But, not completely? It was more like he stuck his head underwater and was listening to conversation from above ground. Muffled beyond belief and impossible to decipher. Only useful for smaller sounds.

Vibrations echoed through the ground and up to his jaw, relaying all the information a snake would bother to care about.

Man, having internal ears _sucked._

God, having only one limb was _weird._ With the vision and hearing Harry could understand why snakes would lash out often. He saw Hermione say something to draw a laugh from Remus and found himself spreading his hood in anxiety.

Soon enough Hermione stepped forward for her turn and Harry spent the time mapping out what new muscles corresponded to which parts of his body.

Then a furry face was gently pressed against his side and he twisted to see an otter. He had wondered if Hermione’s form would change.

The four spent the next few hours in these forms, three of them adjusting to different nervous systems and capabilities. Draco had even managed flight for a few moments, and Harry found great fun in stretching as far as he could off the ground to join him.

Sirius had been reasonably apprehensive when regarding the giant snake, but approached as soon as Harry had playfully returned Hermione’s headbutt.

It wasn’t until the first hint of dawn hit that they began to retreat to the house and shift form.

“I can see another color.” Draco rushed in a panic as soon as they were all human again, stumbling on his feet.

“What the fuck? You get shrimp vision and I get _no_ color?” Harry crossed his arms with a false annoyance.

“At least you guys are menacing!” Hermione exclaimed. “I’m an _otter!”_

Harry laughed at that. “You’re an adorable otter!” He declared while ruffling her hair. “Plus, we have land, sky, and sea!”

With an offended noise Hermione batted his hand away. “Shut up! Every animagus I know is _cooler.”_

“Dude, you’re so much more effective in water than we could hope to be.” Draco commented.

Harry nodded. “I’m pretty much deaf as a snake.”

“I only have wings as arms.”

“I have one single limb and it’s just me. I’m limbless. I’m a fucking worm.”

Sirius shrugged, “Being a dog’s pretty cool.”

Hermione burst into laughter and had to lean against Draco. “Alright, alright!”

Sirius retired to bed and the three made their way into the guest room.

“We really just did that, huh?” Hermione breathed as she settled onto one side of the bed.

Draco climbed up next to her and moved to lay with his head on her legs. “I can’t believe it worked. I always wanted to shapeshift.”

“Gotta say I really didn’t see the bird coming.” Harry commented as he placed his head on Draco’s stomach and his legs propped against the headboard. “Expected like… I actually don’t know what I expected.”

With a laugh Draco replied, “Yeah, I’m not like you with the constant snake motif.”

“He’s got a point.” Hermione said. “I don’t think there was really another option.”

Harry groaned as Draco added, “I will say the species was cool though. I expected like… that one dude with the funny little sharp face.”

“The long-nosed whip snake? God, that would have been so funny.”

“Wasted opportunity bro.”

\--

Draco was sure that he would _always_ be needlessly excited and prepared for sleepovers. In his first life they had been fun when he was a kid, but his smaller friend group meant it became pretty usual by the time they were adults.

It wasn’t uncommon for Ariel to spend a few nights a week at Rose’s house. Absolutely no one had been shocked when they moved in together. (Draco was still positive Rose’s aunt thought they were secretly married.)

Dealing with Lucius as a father, though, meant that sleepovers in this life were noticeably more subdued.

The first time Draco had tried to drag his Slytherin friends into a midnight game of ghost in the graveyard had been a nightmare. They had fun until Lucius found out and Draco was pulled aside for an insane lecture on pureblood etiquette. 

Not that he ever stopped. It was easier at other houses. Lady Parkinson would never outright scold another heir, and that meant Draco got away with starting games of hide-and-seek and a variety of makeovers.

But, of course, there was gossip. Draco was a strange child that had been interested in what appeared to be _muggle games._ It was a blemish on the Malfoy record.

Eventually Lucius began to come up with excuses.

Soon he realized he had gone nearly three years without hanging out with his friends in a casual setting. There was always a lesson or fake illness in the way. He felt like Rapunzel locked in the tower, just with the addition of public lunch ‘play-dates’.

Lucius being terrified of Harry and Draco’s place at his side was one of the best things to happen to him. He was much more hesitant to correct Draco’s mannerisms, and that led to Draco arriving at Hannah’s house for what had to be the fifth time that summer.

School would start in about a month, but Draco was determined to fit as much time with his friends in as possible before that. Wasn’t every day you were offered a literal second chance at childhood.

So Draco was pleased to receive this invitation. He had been meaning to talk to the two anyways, so it was perfect timing.

But he allowed it to be a normal gathering for a while. These two may be able to help him with a mission, but they were _kids._ It was a fact he had to constantly remind himself. He wouldn’t let them get hurt, of course, but there was always a risk and he did his best to minimize it.

Once they had retired for a movie night in front of the TV that Mr. Abbott was ridiculously proud of keeping functional, Draco turned to the two other Hufflepuffs. “Hey, you know how Harry’s birthday is in a few days?”

Susan narrowed her eyes as Hannah reached up to pause the film with a sigh. “Yeah?”

“Wanna help me get his gift?”

Hannah groaned, “We told you you need to think about gifts sooner! You really don’t have any ideas?”

Draco grinned and Susan immediately moved to sit further away. “Oh, no, I know exactly what I’m going to get him. I just need your help actually getting it.”

“I don’t think I want to be part of this.” Hannah decided with a nod, pulling her blanket tighter around her. “You’re gonna find something insanely illegal and I don’t wan-”

“We’d go on an adventure to retrieve a gift.” Draco leveled his gaze at Susan who was looking decidedly torn. “Like a secret mission.”

“Damn.” Susan clicked her tongue and looked to Hannah. “I mean… it’s gotta be fun, right?”

Hannah frowned at her friend so readily accepting the offer, but Draco knew it wouldn’t last long. She was incredibly easy to sway, and he could see why in canon she had so quickly switched her view a few times.

“Is it going to be safe?” She asked.

“Of course not.”

“There’s a chance this is pointless and you just die from some vicious curse or spell?”

“Well obviously I wouldn’t let you two grab the cursed birthday gift.” Draco scoffed in an offended tone. Susan looked hopefully between the two as they exchanged words.

“Harry’s gonna flip his shit over this gift, isn’t he?”

“Oh, guaranteed.”

“I’m in.”

Draco grinned with a bit too much force and clapped his hands together. “Perfect! We can leave tomorrow!”

He could see the instant regret on their faces at the prospect of having to get up early until he spoke again.

“Either of you heard of a place called Little Hangleton?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Draco is a force of chaos that absolutely cannot be stopped


	13. Take 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, we've officially hit the 50k word mark!! This started as a joke fic and I can't believe it's grown this much. I love it.
> 
> Honestly? Thank you so much to everyone who has been reading and commenting. Please know that we read and appreciate every single comment and it's usually what gives us motivation to keep writing. Y'all are amazing!!
> 
> Here's to another 50k!
> 
> Now enjoy this new trio of idiots again. They're dirty little feral agents of chaos and I adore them.

Just like stealing the stone in his first year, the heist for the ring horcrux went a little  _ too  _ smoothly for Draco’s comfort.

They (Draco, Hannah, and Susan) arrived in Little Hangleton with a portkey Draco had bullied Lucius into making for them. It wasn’t hard to spot the decaying manor, and on the way there Draco decided to fully explain to the two girls.

For two twelve year olds, they took the whole ‘piece of Voldemort’s soul’ thing pretty well. Hannah had been justifiably horrified by the concept, but Susan had just shrugged and said, “Nice gift idea.”

Hannah had  _ not  _ agreed with that sentiment.

But, Hufflepuff loyalty and all that. Both girls were ready to help Draco recover the horcrux however they could.

“I’ll be honest,” Draco began as they approached the building, readjusting the heavy backpack he carried. “I mostly asked you two to come because I was afraid to go alone,” They looked at each other then him with startling synchronicity. “If something goes wrong promise to portkey us back  _ immediately.  _ I don’t know exactly what’s around this thing,” He continued. It wasn’t hard for them to agree to that. “Just, whatever else you do,  _ don’t  _ put the ring on.”

Susan scoffed at that. As if they would be so stupid!

Draco might not have Harry’s weird sensory abilities, but even he could tell the horcrux was beneath him as soon as he entered the house, firmly ignoring the snake  _ nailed to the door.  _

“Well, time to get to work.” He called while rubbing his hands together.

“Aren’t there enchantments protecting this thing?” Susan questioned while crouching down to inspect the floorboards.

There was an obvious make-shift door to access the little hiding spot, and it was  _ coated  _ in magic that reeked of danger. “Oh, those old things? They’re only on the door to prevent  _ wizards  _ from getting in.”

Draco dropped the bag he brought and took pride in the fear in Hannah’s eyes at the metallic clangs from within. He pulled out a hammer and crowbar with a grin. “We go  _ around  _ the enchantments.”

“That’s not gonna work.” Susan deflated with a glance to Hannah, “That won’t work, right?”

They were both clearly racing through mental calculations. “I mean, if we don’t touch the part that was actually spelled…”

“This is genius.”

“I hate it.”

The two spoke in sync again and Draco gave a proud grin as a reply.

After that it was only a matter of tearing apart an ancient family home to remove a piece of Voldemort’s soul. Simple stuff.

The entire time Susan was furious that it was so easy to break through enchantments placed by the Dark Lord. “Does no one-” She huffed and took a swing to break through a floorboard. “- _ ever  _ actually anticipate muggle resources?” A few more swings. “We are just literally ripping our way through-” She looked up to take the water bottle Hannah handed her. “-and we don’t have to use an ounce of magic.”

Draco laughed as Susan took the time to slam most of the water. “Ironic since he’s a half-blood.”

He was suddenly covered in Susan’s water. “What the fuck?” Susan used her sleeve to wipe up the water on her face. “Deadass?”

“Yeah,” Draco was torn between being disgusted by the spit water and proud that she had picked up on his slang. Hannah’s unrestrained laughter made it a bit too hard to be even the slightest bit mad. “Dad was a muggle. Mom came from the Gaunt family- hence the whole snake theme.”

Susan sat back on her heels. “Huh.”

“That’s wack.” Hannah helpfully provided as she started to dig at the dirt with a small shovel. She stabbed forcefully at the side of the hole they had dug and grinned when the small layer of dirt collapsed. “Bright side- we got it.” She said as the ring was revealed. 

Draco practically lunged forward, snatching up the small ring in a cloth to avoid skin contact.

They all held their breath for a moment, but there was no curse activated or sudden appearance to deny their victory. “That shouldn’t have worked.” Susan declared again.

In response Draco just sent her the brightest smile he could manage. “But it did!”

Worked a little too well. Draco anticipated getting stuck with at  _ least  _ one curse from the retrieval. Getting away without a scratch felt a little anticlimactic considering they were finding a horcrux.

But, shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth and all that.

The return trip was quick and Draco expressed his thanks before sending Susan and Hannah home.

Then Draco moved on to wrapping the horcrux as a gift for Harry. He was proud of his idea to fool Harry’s senses. He had no doubt he’d sense the magic on the ring (it was even stronger than the diary, honestly) so he wrapped the small box in the invisibility cloak he stole from Harry’s room. Gifts should be a surprise, after all. 

The two hallows practically sang as he wrapped them, and Draco realized that they already had  _ two.  _ As soon as Dumbledore died Harry would be the Master of Death.

Sweet.

\--

Harry still wasn’t used to huge birthday celebrations. It was a weird feeling to him. He didn’t have the greatest relationship with his first life’s parents, but they were always happy to let him celebrate. Rose had a party for every birthday, even if it was just a small gathering with friends.

Needless to say, the Dursleys hadn’t allowed that. They were strict and rude and  _ horrible.  _ Harry could imagine how overwhelming the world of magic would have been without prior knowledge.

Even with it, it was jarring to suddenly be showered with affection and gifts. Despite Sirius’ protests, Harry managed to keep the amount of guests to a reasonable level.

“You’re an heir to the Potter and Black family! Could probably get most of wizarding Britain to send you a gift!” Sirius argued.

But that didn’t matter to Harry. He was perfectly content inviting his friends from school and whoever they chose to bring from their families.

Harry didn’t think he would ever not be shocked at the sight of the adults being forced to mingle. There was usually a clear divide between light and dark families, but seeing Narcissa approach Sirius and Dr Granger was rather unsettling.

The adults managed to keep their shit together and not argue, though, and Harry considered that a blessing.  _ Less  _ of a blessing was the glee in Draco’s eyes as he jumped forward to give Harry his gift first.

“Should I be scared? Because I am. Very scared.” Harry gently took the wrapped box.

“Nah, perfectly safe.”

Hannah and Susan made distressed sounds and Harry raised a brow. If those two were on it he was  _ very  _ afraid.

A whispered hiss led Basil to climb from his shoulders and over to Hermione. Better not take chances. Even if it was just a dangerous plant, he would rather keep Basil away from the danger zone.

Harry was only more confused by the familiar magic inside the box. He carefully peeled it open to reveal the invisibility cloak.

“It’s inside the cloak.” Draco supplied before Harry could question it.

Carefully, Harry unballed the cloak, allowing the small thing to fall into his lap. But, as soon as it was free of the cloak Harry felt his body tense.

“What the fuck.” He whispered, hand almost shaking as it reached for the package. “What did you  _ do?” _

Draco looked concerned at Harry’s reaction. “What? I thought this was the new tradition.”

Opening the thing, Harry almost hissed at the familiar magic that curled around the ring. It was…  _ so wrong.  _ He could feel the call of the hallow, but it was buried, absolutely  _ dripping  _ in the dark and blasphemous sensation of Voldemort’s magic. But there was something else that he couldn’t quite name. Something dangerous.

“This isn’t right.” Harry managed, bringing the box closer to his face for inspection. “Something’s wrong with it.”

The adults hadn’t been paying too much attention to the gift exchange, but Harry saw Remus with panicked eyes trained on the horcrux. No doubt he could detect the magic there.

Remus grabbed Sirius’ arm, whispering something that didn’t reach Harry before starting forward. But Harry couldn’t let them confiscate this, and he wasn’t sure the reincarnation excuse would work.

So he snatched the ring from its protective packaging and curled it in his fist. Then he froze, caught off guard by the sensation of fire in his hand. It was like someone held his hand over an erupting volcano, and that pain was gradually climbing up his arm and shoulder.

A silent breath escaped him and he was barely aware of looking to Draco with wide and frantic eyes. He struggled to produce any sound and only managed one word before collapsing in the middle of his living room.

“ _ Fuck.”  _

_ \-- _

Wizarding society- no, purebloods- were harsh, cruel, and ruthless towards each other.

There was no defense for their treatment of muggleborns, but Draco had seen just how shitty it could be.

It reminded him of a medieval drama where one wrong move meant you were cast from that section of society. Therefore, it was expected of wizarding families to train their children from a young age.

If a wizard was to carry their family into the next generation, they should be able to handle basic social interactions from a young age. But the training wasn’t a simple class in school.

Children were to have absolute control of their emotions in public, and that was often enforced at home to create a standard. Considering most came from pure-blood families, it made sense that most Slytherin students carried themselves with more purpose and grace than many of the muggleborns who were allowed to just be  _ kids. _

Even in school there was the fear of failure. Slytherins stuck together, but it only took one slip and a family would plummet in status.

So, even with his normal attitude towards his family, Draco had the training of any other heir. He had sat nicely through his lessons if only to escape the withering glare of his father sooner.

He pushed all of that to the side in normal situations, but found it being used as a sort of defense mechanism. When Draco was stressed he realized he would mirror his father’s teachings and mannerisms. It was a way to escape what was happening and control whatever raging emotions threatened to absolutely decimate whatever made him panic.

Sitting across from his best friend as Harry’s face turned as pale as Draco’s hair, Draco felt his entire body go rigid. He was paralyzed. His mind went blank except for a litany of self accusations. 

He fucked up. He fucked up and now Harry was- was not breathing and it was all because of his stupid idea of a funny  _ joke- _

Draco Malfoy was frozen in place. 

—

Sirius watched as his godson went rigid before collapsing. And suddenly it felt as if he were back in Azkaban, because surely nothing less than a dementor could make him feel this cold. This empty. 

It took Remus shaking him from his stupor for him to notice anything other than Harry’s still form. His vision stopped tunneling long enough for him to notice Malfoy freeze in a very familiar emptiness. That carefully blank expression that signaled the complete obliteration of all emotions. He would know it, since he grew up seeing it on his own face. His brother’s face. 

And suddenly he was running to Harry’s side, frantically patting his robes. 

“Harry- Harry please wake up, you’re fine,  _ renervate-  _ Harry!” Then Remus was behind him, approaching slowly as if he was a wild animal. But there was no time for  _ caution!  _ Harry was  _ hurt  _ and they needed to get to a healer and hadn’t Narcissa-

“Sirius… he’s.. he’s dead.” Remus slowly pulled his hands away from Harry’s body. At those words, the entire room, which had been standing still, exploded into motion. Tonks’ hair started rapidly shifting colors, Mrs. Granger started crying, someone dropped a glass. 

In the complete chaos, Sirius found his eyes locked on the ring still clutched in Harry’s hand.

His wand was drawn before he had even processed the action. Tearing himself from Remus’ grip, Sirius bared his teeth in a manner far too reminiscent of his animagus form. “ _ You.” _

Draco’s mask slipped into something noticeably shocked. “ _ Me?” _

“You  _ killed  _ my godson!” Perhaps if he wasn’t completely blinded by his rage and grief he would have seen the look of terror that crossed Draco’s face.

“No-” He stammered, raising his hands as if to ward off his accusation. “I would  _ never-” _

Remus was there again, carefully grabbing at Sirius’ wand arm and trying to lower it to his side. “Sirius, he’s just a kid. He didn’t  _ know.” _ Draco flinched again. Sirius was shaking.

For a moment there was silence. Then Narcissa had her wand pressed against Sirius’ neck. “You might be my cousin, but you will  _ not  _ touch my son.”

In what seemed to be mostly instinct, Remus instantly drew his wand on Narcissa.

“Exactly what I’d expect from a  _ beast.”  _ Lucius scoffed while leveling his arm towards Remus.

In the panic, no one witnessed Harry sitting back up. “Uh, hey guys, what’d I miss?”

\--

Harry saw white.

Well, more than white. It was a building of some kind, and clearly not the train station he expected when he eventually died.

_ Oh shit. _

He was  _ dead.  _ Draco had given him the horcrux and he had  _ died. _

A wave of guilt and sorrow enveloped him, and Harry did his best to drown out the ambient noise around him with his hands. It was  _ loud  _ and Harry closed his eyes again. He didn’t want this.

“Hey, loser.” The familiar voice had him whipping his hands away from his ears in a panic.

Harry’s eyes snapped open. He forced himself to his feet with shaky limbs, eyes not moving from the short brunette across from him. “Ariel?” His voice was a whisper as if anything more would dissipate the spectral form.

“Duh. Who else you think you’re gonna envision on a freaky death trip? Dumbledore?” It was a dumb joke (and a good point) and only reaffirmed to Harry that  _ this was his friend. _

He booked it, almost jumping into the spectre’s arms with tears already flowing down his cheeks. “Fuck, dude.” Burying his face in her shoulder he ignored the way he desperately clawed his fingers into the fabric of her shirt. It felt so  _ real. _

It took a considerable effort to pull away, but he did, wiping his eyes and finally glancing around. “Is this…?” He frowned, the name not quite coming to him. His memory was getting worse.

“Cote d’Azur Airport.”

The airport in Nice. The one Rose had visited dozens of times when seeing her family back in France. “Not what I expected.”

“Well, you don’t really have a connection to King’s Cross, do you?”

Harry shook his head. “I’d hope not. This isn’t exactly my home.” His tone was the closest to light and sarcastic he could get, but Ariel frowned.

“You have to let go of being Rose.” Ariel’s hands cupped his face gently. “She is a part of you, but she is not  _ you,  _ okay? Your time here has made sure of that.”

Harry reached up to cover her hands with his own. “Okay, wig I guess.” He choked out with a half-formed laugh.

Ariel frowned before looking over her shoulder. “Speaking of being Harry…” 

She turned towards a small form he didn’t notice earlier. Was that...? 

“Man. Fuck this guy.” 

And she punted the fragment of Voldemort’s soul like a football. 

Letting out a startled laugh, Harry felt only a little bad for finding that fucking hilarious. 

“Oh my god- I- I’ve missed you, Ariel. I can’t leave you again.” Harry wasn’t sure if his voice cracking was from pure emotion or the amount he had cried.

“You dumbass.” She laughed, and Harry found himself wishing he could capture that sound. “I haven’t gone anywhere.” The touch against his cheek faded and Harry let out a panicked sound, stretching,  _ reaching- _

Harry saw white.

—

“Really?” Harry took a moment to survey the scene. A variety of drinks stained the floor. Pansy looked like she had passed out. Hermione was crying.

And, oh, yeah.  _ The four grown adults in some kind of Mexican standoff.  _  “I’m gone for two minutes and you guys can’t be civilized? What the fuck?”

Sirius let out a breath like he wanted to scold his language, but instead chose to drop his wand completely and drop to the floor to pull Harry into a hug. “Harry- I thought- I thought you were  _ dead-” _

“To be fair,” Harry pulled himself gently from Sirius’ hold, a bit too overwhelmed for the tight grip. “I did die. White building and everything.” He groaned and shuffled his shoulders to crack his back. “That curse was  _ brutal.” _

“Harry?” That one came from Draco, clearly searching for an explanation.

Harry ignored the small part of him that expected a different name even after all these years. Instead, he made eye contact with Draco and tapped the scar that was lightly bleeding. “That bastard did something useful for once.”

The assortment of people around the room that knew about that information let out varying sounds of distress. The rest just looked lost. Harry was almost proud of the chaotic moment.

“But- I mean- you’re okay?” Hermione asked with what had to be the softest voice Harry had ever heard from her.

“Hell yeah.” Harry held up the ring like a trophy. “I got a horcrux  _ and  _ a hallow. Two birds!”

Hermione smacked the back of his head, then Draco’s. 

“Don’t do something like that  _ ever again.”  _ She threatened. 

All of the adults in the room spoke in haunting unison. “Seconded.” Harry thought it said something about him and Draco that they seemed to accept him coming back from the dead as just another Tuesday.

Draco clapped his hands with his normal dramatic flair and in a shaky voice asked, “So. Who wants cake?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like I said: Dirty little feral agents of chaos. Every single one. They're my children.


	14. Take 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so we've hit third year. Thanks for all your support along the way <3

Three nights after Harry’s birthday he found himself lying in the living room with Draco once more. They had spent the past few hours finalizing some less important plans for the coming year, and now they were lounging in front of the fireplace. Harry was on the floor with his back against the sofa and Draco was stretched like a cat directly in front of the fire.

Harry, despite his best efforts, found himself unable to focus on the papers in front of him. They were character sheets- he and Draco were determined to start a DnD game with a few friends- and Harry stared at one line while repeatedly tapping his pen against the page.

“Hey, Draco?” His friend gave a hum as a response. Taking a moment to gather his thoughts, Harry started to doodle on the edge of his npc’s backstory.

“I-” Harry paused to bite his lip. “I think I’m gay?”

Draco didn’t even glance up from where he was frantically trying to figure out his stats. “Well, yeah.”

For a moment Harry was shocked into silence. “No, like… I was a lesbian my last life, but, this time I think I’m Gay gay.” Finally Draco paused his writing to look up. “Like- I like _boys_ kind of gay.”

With a nod Draco reaffirmed, “Well, yeah.” At Harry’s questioning look he continued, “I’m pretty sure you’d be whatever sexuality meant you were ga-”

A look of realization swept over his face and Draco closed his eyes and scrunched his nose into a look of intense concentration.

“Are you okay?” Harry called with apprehension.

“Oh, thank god.” Draco breathed out a second later. “I’m still ace.” He wiped the back of his hand across his forehead. “Probably still aromantic. Had me worried there for a second.”

Harry let out an astonished laugh. “Holy shit.”

“But, kinda sucks for you.” He pointed to Harry with his neon green pen. “You’re actually romantic and can’t really date anyone here.”

Letting out a sigh Harry fell onto his back. “Yeah. Unless I find someone similar in physical age but mentally as old as me and then wait six years until we’re adults-” He let out a second and more dramatic sigh. “Want to get married for tax benefits?”

“The day I pay Wizard Taxes is the day I die.”

Harry scoffed. “Guess I’ll die alone again.”

Draco’s pen connected solidly with Harry’s cheek. “Rude.”

\--

Sometimes Harry was frustrated by the way their problems were solved. Sure, it was great not to have to face a soul eating demon on the train, but he was getting _bored._

It wasn't a thought he expected. He was at a magic school! Every day should be its own adventure! But, instead, Harry found himself scribbling in his diary while a massive black dog slept across his lap.

Not being able to really utilize the magic he was learning was awful. There was a constant itch beneath his skin and he hated to admit he craved conflict of some sort.

First year had been _fun._ Dancing around Quirrell and befriending a basilisk was _exciting._ He nodded to himself. If Harry wouldn't be forced into dangerous situations then he'll just have to make them himself.

He was sure Remus would have a heart attack by winter break.

But, before that, he was determined to prepare the DA just in case. There was no guarantee that something else wouldn't happen to bring dementors to the school.

He and Draco still only managed a non-corporeal patronus, but it would be enough to pass on to the other students.

The DA met on the third night of classes. The turnout was even bigger than last year, and Harry was startled to see first years already. The count had to be up to forty at least, and he was wondering if it would last when they actually had a good teacher this year.

“Welcome!” Draco called, taking the makeshift stage made of two desks with a dramatic bow. “An extra welcome to the first years! May you never actually need this group.” They looked at him with some confusion while the members from last year let out pained sounds.

Draco grinned, swinging around to sit on the edge of the desks now that he had everyone's attention. “Now, since there's a larger group we're gonna divide a bit more. Later in term we can focus on year-specific spells. For now, though, third year and above can join Harry while I teach you kiddos how to effortlessly take down a mountain troll!?”

Most of the kids just chuckled at that, but Harry was more concerned about the few whose eyes lit up with excitement.

Harry turned to Cedric while the students moved some furniture and organized themselves. “Have you ever cast the patronus?”

Cedric blinked at him a few times. “I almost don't want to answer that.”

“I wanna teach it to the third years and up.” Because if he and Draco could manage it, so could they. “I could use some teaching assistance.”

“Oh, well, if you promise not to release dementors in the school, sure. It's only a mist of a patronus, but its effective enough.” Cedric nodded as if to reassure himself.

Harry let out a sigh of relief, “Oh, thank god, okay. You take fifth year and up?”

Cedric leaned over to ruffle Harry's hair, “No problem, _kiddo._ ”

Harry huffed and frantically fixed his mid-back length hair while Cedric called the older students and took a different section of the room.

Turning back to his own year, Harry began, “Look, I'm gonna be real honest with you guys.” Harry pulled a chair closer to him with his foot and fell into it. “Voldemort _will_ be returning at some point. Quirrell taught us that much.” It was an interesting effect to see fourteen students blanch at once. He was just proud they all believed him this time. The information about just who Quirrell housed leaking earlier probably helped.

“Last time he made an effort to recruit dementors. I don't know _how,_ but he did. Even if there's an Azkaban breakout or something,” He paused to let their panicked noises out, “the dementors may leave the area to hunt them down. In either of these scenarios it's easy to end up on the bad side of a dementor. We are going to avoid that.”

It slowly clicked and Hermione called, “the patronus? We're only third years!”

Harry nodded and brought out his wand, lazily twirling it in his hands. “Yes, but the only reason this spell is so difficult is because it's fueled by memories. You need to cast while recalling a memory so happy and powerful that it's even stronger than the dementors.”

Pansy let out a heavy breath. “Can you cast it?”

With a dramatic twirl reminiscent of Draco, Harry faced the opposite direction and called up his memories.

_A soft smile on Draco's face. The relief in Sirius’ eyes when he came home. A sense of acceptance when Remus finally understood. His friends, truly ride or die._

_Ariel's arms around his back. That familiar phoenix sensation that sent chills down his spine. The call of the hallows._

_“Expecto patronum.”_

Harry grinned as he cast his first corporeal patronus. A serpent rushed from his wand, turning to circle the room and coil back above Harry, a shimmering blue trail left in its wake. “That's how you do it.”

Harry caught Draco's eye across the room and wanted to cry at the proud look there. Then Draco's eyes flicked back above Harry and something else filled them.

Looking up, Harry expected to see the same inland taipan as his animagus form coiled protectively above him.

Instead, the serpent had its jaws firmly clamped around its own tail while lazily spinning above Harry.

He ended the spell immediately, making pointed eye contact with Hermione. Thanking god that the other students seemed to have been distracted by the patronus enough to not notice its behavior, Harry smiled. “So, I want you all to give it a try.” 

\--

Harry didn’t realize how much he missed relaxing in the library with his friends until given the chance again. This time he was just with Draco, and Harry made sure to glance up every few minutes to make sure he was actually working on the potions essay they were assigned. 

After about an hour in the library, Draco leaned across the table and swiped Harry’s paper from him. “‘Good.’ ‘I’d like to thank the Academy.’ ‘Download my mixtape.’ ‘I left 50 thousand dollars in the-’ ‘Hey… you guys wanna see a dead body.” He stopped and scanned the rest of the list. “What the fuck is this?”

Harry reached for the paper and Draco pulled it out of his reach. “My last word was ‘fuck.’ I need to think of something cooler this time.”

There was a pause where Draco’s face scrunched up in thought. Harry thought for a second that maybe he was being too flippant with the whole thing. His hands clenched into his pants, a feeling of dread rising. He didn’t mean to make Draco-

“What are you gonna do, stab me?” Draco nodded at that and moved to scribble it on the bottom of his paper. “Can’t forget a classic, man.”

Letting out a sigh of relief Harry smiled. “Yeah, but we’re wizards. What are the odds of a knife?”

“Yeah, because,” Draco squinted at the list, “‘I’ll be back (but in the Terminator’s voice)’ is going to be so well understood by wizards.”

“Not my fault the purebloods are _boring_ .” Harry huffed, lunging forward and snatching the list from Draco. “Sorry I have _taste.”_

Draco barked out a laugh as Hermione approached and fell into the seat next to him. “What are you laughing at now? World domination?” They both pretended not to hear the pained acceptance in her tone.

“Harry’s coming up with better last words.”

Hermione sent him a disapproving glare that only lasted a moment. “Well, enough of that. I saw your patronus last night, Harry.”

While Draco scooted away from the witch on a mission, Harry let his head fall onto the table. He hoped for at least a bit of time before they addressed this. “Yeah.” He muttered.

“It’s incredible!” Hermione pulled out a book from who-knows-where and slammed it down. “I finally got this from Neville and it’s _incredible.”_

 _Link Between Life and Death_ was before them, open to a page that clearly showed a sketch of an ouroboros and phoenix. The writing beside it was in a language Harry didn’t quite recognize, but Hermione read without issue.

“Apparently Falman’s a seer, and she had a vision about this. Get this, _‘When I saw it, the phoenix was burning bright, a symbol of life if I had ever seen one. But there was more there, something darker counteracting the radiating light of the phoenix. It was a serpent, coiled around itself and devouring its own tail.’_

_“‘I don’t know how I understood, but I knew that this was not the first time they were here. They had lived before. Maybe it was the ash beneath the phoenix’s wings or the shed skin behind the serpent, but I knew they had been reborn into this world as they had and will be so many times.’_

“ _‘They are as twin gods of legend, the light and dark balancing the existence of our world. The creation and destruction inspiring myth. The life and death.’”_

Hermione sat back in her chair and let out a heavy breath. “I- I mean, you guys would know if that was true, right?”

Biting his lip, Harry sent an anxious look to Draco. “Well,” He eventually began, “I don’t know.”

“You do feel connected to the hallows and those are like pieces of death or something, right?” Draco questioned.

“But we would know if we had some cosmic importance, wouldn’t we? There’s no way we just _wouldn’t know!”_   He buried his face in his hands, unable to look at the terror in Draco’s expression. “Herm?” He was so grateful for her when she hummed in understanding at his muffled words. “What was the purpose of these figures?”

“Create, restore, and maintain balance, probably not all at the same time.”

Draco suddenly paled. “Voldemort. He- He cheated death. Is defying life by making so many horcruxes and-”

“We have to restore the balance.” Harry finished. “But- didn’t the canon Harry do that?! Why do we-”

The book slammed closed. “Well,” Hermione cut through the tension, sniffing and lifting her sleeve to wipe at her eyes, “Either way, you won’t be doing any of it alone, understood?”

Harry was honestly impressed by her ability to mother two assumed gods of life and death. “Thanks, Hermione.”

“You have all of the horcruxes besides the snake anyways, right? We can just burn them and be done?”

Draco shook his head, “No, we don’t want to risk it. There’s still a shade of him out there somewhere. If he can tell when a fragment is destroyed he could change his plans. Coming back in another way or forming some other scheme… we can’t chance that.”

“Right.” Harry confirmed, nodding and shaking away the rest of his fear at these revelations, “We have to wait for him to come back during the tournament. Then we can burn it all to the ground.”

\--

Minerva watched as Ms. Norris rounded the corner, a huge black dog hot on her heels. Both animals were tracking mud all over the floors. 

“You filthy mutt! Get away from my cat!” Filch spat, as he raced after the pair, sweaty and disheveled. 

Minerva sighed, and cursed whoever thought letting Sirius Black back on the grounds was a good idea. She really doesn’t get paid enough for this. 

—

Sirius stifled a laugh as he cast the last spell. Behind him, Remus rolled his eyes but kept on with his job as lookout. After tomorrow‘s breakfast, everyone’s teeth will be a nice vibrant blue, and their robes will be changed to bright pink. 

It felt good to pull a prank like this, at Hogwarts, for the first time in years. The only thing was the lack of the other two who should be here. No- the only _one_ who should be here. He still felt the ache of James’ absence, painful even after all this time, but- this was nice. 

The looks of utter adoration on the Weasley twins faces the next morning were even better. 

The two redheads caught up with Sirius and Remus outside the great hall after the chaotic breakfast. 

“Harry told us that you two-“

“- are messieurs Padfoot and Moony!” 

Suddenly they dropped to their knees.

“We humble ourselves before you!” 

Sharing a startled look with Remus, Sirius felt his face slowly morph into a grin. Oh yes. This was amazing. 

\--

“And then I went _whoosh_ and caught Harry before he could hit the ground! The Whomping Willow came _this close_ to taking my head off, but I’m just too amazing and dodged it.” 

Severus listened as his godson- his godson who was mentally three years older than him- described playing a game of chicken with the Whomping Willow. He felt a migraine beginning to form behind his eyes. 

Beside him, Lupin wordlessly handed him a flask under the table. 

Gods. Someone who _understands._

And then, the Potter boy just had to chime in with: “I only fell off of my broom because I wanted to practice flying with no hands.” His voice was defensive, as if that were a _perfectly normal_ thing to try to do. 

Lupin, who heard Potter’s remark as well, groaned and put his head in his hands. In a rare moment of camaraderie, Severus patted his back. 

—

Remus collapsed into a chair next to Snape and proceeded to groan. 

Snape looked equally stressed. 

“Today, Harry came to me complaining that all of his peers were too young to date without it being weird.” 

“Draco asked me if he could drive my car. I don’t even own a car.”

“Harry gave me a shirt that said ‘Team Jacob’ on it. I’m afraid to ask what it means.” 

“Draco tested a bezoar in class. After drinking poison. He said he wanted to see what it tasted like.” 

Remus paused. “The bezoar or the poison?”

Snape looked at the ceiling as if asking for strength. “Both.” 

They both sighed in unison, before sending each other wary glances. 

“I still hate you.”

“The feeling is mutual.” 

—

Severus slid into the booth of the Three Broomsticks and waved over Madam Rosmerta. 

“Two firewhiskeys please” 

“Sure hon.” 

Severus winced at the term of endearment, but let it go. 

A couple minutes later, Remus slid into the seat across from him. 

“This doesn’t mean we’re friends.” 

“Of course not.” 

They drink.

—

Harry had never actually gone to the Mirror of Erised, but he had nearly a dozen ideas for what he might have seen in the mirror.

Boggarts, on the other hand, he did his best not to think about. Not that fears were something anyone liked to dwell on, but he was certain he and Draco a bit more to worry about than others. There was an entire other life to draw from.

Part of him was afraid the fear would be something from his old life. If he saw that one time a plane had crashed or the sound of the locked door creaking open at night- that wasn’t something he could explain.

There was plenty to be afraid of in this world. Between Voldemort, death eaters, dementors, and dark curses he was sure he would be fine.

He forced himself to ignore that none of those things scared him like they should.

Harry was far too confident in his ability to handle creatures like dementors. He was afraid, but not _terrified._

It was likely his fear wasn’t exactly tangible. If it was loneliness inspired by the Dursleys, would the boggart just vanish? But that didn’t sound right as his fear. Everyone had a fear of rejection to an extent, but Harry had long made peace with a lot of that.

He had prepared himself for the isolation and rejection canon Harry received. Needless to say his current situation wasn’t even close to that. Harry knew what it was to love and to be loved. There was nothing to fear in that.

Harry’s mind was racing as he finally moved closer to the front of the line. Most had been successful so far, dousing fears like spiders and snakes in a plethora of bright colors and sounds.

There was nothing scary about the actual exercise really.

He took the last steps to the cabinet as Hannah turned a death eater into a dancing clown. She high-fived him and Draco as she walked past and back to her seat.

Draco squeezed his shoulder from his place behind him in line and Remus gave him a reassuring smile.

Harry took the last step, wand raised and spell on his lips.

His entire body froze when faced with Ariel’s broken form. Terror grabbed the very breath from his lungs.

“You did this.” She rasped and clutched her hands around a hideous stomach wound. “You were driving. I _trusted_ you!”

The fear became a near tangible thing, a living beast that crept over him with no hint of subtlety and no intention of mercy. It was a horror like he had never felt before.

Is this how people felt before a boggart? He had mocked them before. They weren’t real, so why be afraid?

But he was very much afraid.

\--

Draco’s first thought upon seeing his old face was along the lines of ‘damn, _that’s_ what I looked like to other people?’

The second was a brief ‘wait, _I’m_ his fear? Asshole.’

Then he saw the blood running down her chin.

Her words were garbled and barely understood, but it made the situation pretty clear. Ariel dying was Harry's fear.

Draco felt a strange mix of flattered and horrified at that. He knew that he was an important figure in Harry’s life, but-

There was a whole new feeling in seeing his friend freeze at the sight. Because Harry was frozen, eyes wide and fixated on the boggart in horror.

Draco looked to Remus, praying he was about to step in and get Harry away from the creature. But Remus was just as transfixed, watching the figure with a slack jaw. Did he recognize Ariel from Harry’s memory?

It didn’t matter.

Draco decided he would throw hands with the very image of his past self if that’s what he needed to do.

No _true_ Ariel would _ever_ make Harry sad on purpose. 

And then he actually put his money where his mouth is and jumped in front of the boggart. Instantly it changed. It took a second for Draco to realize what it now was, but once he did, he blanched. 

A man with glasses stood over an abomination, a girl and a dog jumbled into one. It’s head seemed to droop under its own weight, and it’s eyes were too intelligent. 

Shou and Nina Tucker. 

Draco took a deep breath and mentally set aside the implications of the scene for later. 

“ _Riddikulus”_

And suddenly the man and beast were replaced with cartoonish figures, Charlie Brown and Snoopy. 

He turned towards Harry, and saw that he was hyperventilating a little bit. _Aw fuck_. Draco was hoping he would snap out of it once the boggart was gone.

Gently, he pulled Harry from the classroom, shooting Remus a sheepish glance in the process. He seemed like he wanted to follow, but he glanced at the rest of the students and seemed to think better of it. 

Once in the hallway, Draco sank to sit on the floor and tugged on Harry’s sleeve until he sat too. Now, Draco wasn’t normally a very tactile person, but he knew that Harry very much was. So he pulled Harry into a hug and held him there until his breathing evened out. 

“You better?” He asked. 

“Yeah.” Came the response, mumbled into his shoulder. 

“Good. Do you wanna go blow up some training dummies in the room of requirement? Who needs therapy when you can make shit explode with your mind.” 

Harry let out a startled laugh. “Yeah. Yeah, let’s go.” 

—

Hermione had heard many stories in her life. Well, she even _was_ one, if what Draco and Harry said was true.

Her favorite had always been fantasy. It was easy to get lost in the tales and forget herself and her mundane life if even for a moment in the stories of epic battles and incredible magic. Hearing that she could wield that magic for herself had been a literal dream come true.

Meeting Harry was another fantasy. He was a legend, defeating a villain as a child and going on to join Hogwarts the same year as her. But he was seated next to Draco Malfoy that day. The son of Lucius “I Hate Muggles” Malfoy telling her she was welcome in their company and would be their friend.

It was surreal. It felt like she was truly living in one of her stories. When Draco and Harry trusted her with the truth, she knew she would do anything to protect them. They didn’t deserve what they had been through, and now they were forced into being the heroes of her own world.

Sometimes Hermione felt horrible guilt at expecting so much from them. They were physically children like her, dragged into a war their ancestors had started.

But they were more than that. Not even just because they were actually adults.

No, Hermione thought, watching as Harry let out a breath filled with unfocused magic. They were so much more than that.

She had seen them on the way to the Room of Requirement, and the absolute chaos in Harry’s magic had been apparent to even her. Draco didn’t look much better. So she joined them and now sat near the door as they methodically ripped the room apart nearly faster than its magic could mend.

A flare of fire erupted from Draco’s wand in what couldn’t possibly be a real spell and practically vaporized a row of training dummies. Harry had laughed at that, casting his wand aside in favor of embracing the feral and unrestrained wandless magic he was scary good at.

They probably didn’t even realize it, judging from the conversation earlier. Didn’t realize the talent they held that compared to no other student Hermione had met.

Probably not even the adults, she mused as Draco let a spiral of pure magic tear apart a bookshelf in the corner. Harry followed it with his own attack before the magic repairing the room could even take effect.

Watching them so effortlessly wield magics so impossible for anyone else, Hermione believed in Falman’s words.

These were the gods of life and death. Cosmic entities with the will and power to shape the world to their wishes. She was honestly a little terrified.

Draco moved then, swinging a baseball bat to connect with a mannequin head like he was swinging a golf club. It sailed forward and into the fire as he cried, “ _Touchdown!”_

Harry laughed hard enough to lose his balance, tipping forward and landing in a heap in the middle of the floor.

Well, maybe if the gods were two absolute dumbasses.

\--

Omake: 

And then he actually put his money where his mouth is and jumped in front of the boggart. Instantly it changed. It took a second for Draco to realize what it now was, but once he did, he blanched. 

In front of him was a man, dressed in a flamboyant outfit, with pink hair and makeup on his cheeks. 

Instantly Harry burst out laughing, all traces of panic washed away by this new discovery. “Hisoka? Hunter x Hunter _Hisoka?”_

Draco waved a hand, flustered. “He’s creepy and a pervert! And how am I supposed to make this funny, anyways? _He’s already a clown!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hermione: They're so strong!  
> Draco: TOUCHDOWN  
> Hermione: Sweet fucking jesus we're doomed.
> 
> Some clarity on Draco's boggart: First of all yeah Hisoka was definitely an idea we threw around for the sheer comedic impact, but Tucker does fit better lol.
> 
> It's obviously not a fear of this random anime character, but more of what he represents. It's the fear of being manipulated, and betrayed, and used, and abandoned. Of having his family ripped away from him for someone else's gain.
> 
> Draco fears the things Tucker has done because he's afraid of his family being hurt in the same way.
> 
> On that note thanks for reading hope you have a great week :)


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